April 29, 2006
PIC OF THE DAY:
A) A reminder of the supreme importance of memory in human experience?
B) A memorial placard for the number one?
C) A tune-in ad for New York 1?
D) A reminder to remember which row you parked your car in?
The fact that it was located in a parking garage at an airport would tend to suggest that the last option was the intended one, but, alas, context can never fully determine meaning and the unruly signifier can always find a way to wriggle free. I'm going with option (B).
NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY:
Iran said they don’t give a damn about U.N. resolutions. Sounds like their leaders and ours really aren’t so far apart after all.
MOTTO OF THE DAY/T-SHIRT IDEA OF THE DAY:
You’re only as good as your last nap.
UPDATE OF THE DAY:
Still no check from the Cherry Hill scammer.
But I am hell bent on amortizing that $30 expense (loan?????) with ongoing references to it on the blog. C’mon, I know you're all dying of curiosity and keep checking in here every ten minutes to see if the matter's been resolved. Does Vegas know his reader(s) or what???
Actually, for what it's worth, I have received about 15 e-mail votes in response to the Vegas Branded Interactive Poll of the day. And let's just say, not one of you believes I will ever see a penny of that $30 loan again. But--oh blessed power of denial!-- that doesn't stop me from calling it a loan.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
From Commissioner Bud Selig, in re the Major League's official position towards Barry Bonds and his assault on Henry Aaron's record. "He's had a remarkable career. Whatever happens, happens," Selig said. "We're going to let nature take its course. Commissioners don't sit around and say, 'I hope this guy breaks it or not."'
Nature taking its course.
I suspect if nature had taken its course, Barry would have about 550 home runs right now. And still have a human sized head.
PROS VS. CONS ANALYSIS OF THE DAY:
I board a very small 16 seat plane for a business trip to Knoxville, Tennessee. (Yes, Knoxville, Tennessee.) I’m thinking: On the upside, it’s too small to make a dent in a terrorist target, so it probably won’t get hijacked. Plus it’s so small it’d be really hard to hit with a shoulder held land-to-air missile. But on the downside, it’s so small that if a couple of fat people sit on the same side of the aisle, we go into a death spin. What are you gonna do? Nothing’s perfect. You’ve gotta take the good with the bad.
SONGS OF THE DAY:
(Sung to the tune of Paul Simon’s “Graceland”)
“I’m going to Knoxville, Knoxville, Knoxville Tennessee I’m going to Knoxville.”
Sung to the tune of Paul Simon’s “Only Living Boy in New York”
“And here I am…the only Jewish boy in Knoxville…”
PLEASURE OF THE DAY:
Listening to Ralph Kiner astutely slurring.
DANGLING PHRASE OF THE DAY:
Like winking through a one way mirror.
OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
The service economy: Brilliantly engineered to thwart you with a smile.
CORRECTION OF THE DAY:
In my previous post, I mistakenly identified the photo as showing me and my Peeps. I've been informed by my crack staff of Seasonal Confectionary Advisors that the yellow creature with whom I am appearing is properly refered to as a singular Peep. So, evidently, what you were looking at was not a photo of me and my Peeps but rather a photo of me and my Peep. My deep apologies for any misunderstanding. And to the entire Peep community for any perceived disrespect. By the way, let me take this opportunity to assure everyone that no Peeps were injured during the making of that photograph, although a few were eaten.
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April 25, 2006
VISUAL OF THE DAY: TEDDY VEGAS AND HIS PEEPS.
Many of you have been wondering where I've been and with whom I've been hanging, so I figured I'd share a photo of me and my Peeps. (For the Seasonal Confectionary Challenged (such as myself up until about a week ago): The yellow fellow next to the salt and pepper beard (honest, there's still a little bit of pepper left in there) is called a Peeps.) Note: I tried to make the photo smaller and put it at the end of the posting, but I couldn't figure out how. So please, imagine it a lot smaller and appearing at the end of this posting. Thank you.
ANECDOTE OF THE DAY: "JEW HAVE $28?" OR “OY VEGAS.”
I’m in Grand Central Station on Saturday running late for a dinner/theater engagement, when I’m stopped by some harried looking olive skinned guy with a yarmulke and a British accent. “Excuse me. I left my coat and wallet in a cab and I’m just wondering where someone in this country can find a Jewish organization that might help a Jewish tourist in this kind of a situation. I’ve been trying to get help for hours and no one believes me and I’m hungry and I just want to get the bus fare back to Cherry Hill New Jersey. So can you think of any Jewish organization that can help me?” Something in his tone is grating and annoying and—though I’m Jewish myself-- his insistence on this whole Jewish thing (Jews: The Chosen Tourists) is rubbing me the wrong way. But I try not to hold his Jewishness and his grating-ness against him.
I think for a minute. Well, there’s the UJA…and maybe one of the temples near here. “No. Can’t. It’s Sabbath.” and he says something in Hebrew I don’t fully understand. “Where does someone in this country go for help in a situation like this?” Since he keeps saying “In this country” I ask him what country he is from. “I live in London.” He tells me. “I just need $28 to get back to Cherry Hill New Jersey.” I stand there, trying to overcome my impatience and be available to another human soul…who may or may not be Jewish…may or may not be scamming me…may or may not be in need. “If you could loan me the money, I’ll send you a check for $100 as soon as I get back, no problem.” I tell him I have absolutely no interest in making money from this transaction. “I have been asking people all day and no one believes me and I am very very hungry.”
The thoughts race through my head: Ok, he might be scamming me. But if he is, it’s rather impressive that he mastered the British accent and learned all that Hebrew sounding Hebrew for the job. Or, he might really be in need. In which case I should just do the right thing and try to help a fellow human being—albeit a fairly grating one. It’s a $30 bet on human nature. Either I’ll have my faith in the basic decency of man confirmed or I’ll be disappointed by the mendacity and shamelessness of the human animal. In the former case, it’ll be a win-win. I’ll feel good about myself for believing the best and doing the right thing and he’ll feel good about himself and his fellow man for the hand extended and the gratitude returned. In the latter case, it’s a win-lose. I’ll still feel good about myself for believing the best and doing the right thing and he and his rancid, maggot-ridden, cancerous lower intestine of a soul will burn in a hell of his own making for having donned the trappings of religious faith to shamelessly scam $30 measly dollars from a person who still had the vestiges of a heart and would have been just as likely to give him the damn money without the frigging yarmulke. Either way, I figured it was an investment in the blog (I’ll have something to write about and speculate upon) and, as such, is surely a tax deductible expense.
Anyhow, I said, “You know what? I’m in a rush. I have no idea if you’re telling me the truth or not, but here’s my name and my address, (“Oh, you’re Cohanim!”, he exclaimed) and here’s $30. I happen to be one of the few Jews in New York without lots of money, so if you can send it back, that’d be great. But you do whatever your God or conscience or lack or God or lack of conscience tells you to do. You send me $30 or you live with the pathetic victory and enduring shame of taken advantage of someone’s frail but still lingering feeling for his fellow man. And know either way that the fact that you were presenting yourself as Jewish in no way affected my decision to help or not to help you (although—and this I did not say out loud -- I have to admit the sight of a Jew in financial need did strike me as a curious and counter-intuitive thing.) Shalom. Salaam Aleckem. Auf Wiedersehen. Au Revoir. Have a good day.”
So how about it: Let’s amortize this $30 investment, with another one of those great interactive features that have been thriving on this blog.
TEDDY VEGAS BRANDED INTERACTIVE POLL QUESTION OF THE DAY:
Will he send a check or won’t he? Vote now. But please, not all at once.
(Before voting. You may want to read the following full disclosure.)
FACTORS ENCOURAGING A "NAY" VOTE
A few things hit me afterwards that made me more inclined to vote on the scam side of the ballot. 1) There is no transportation to Cherry Hill, New Jersey from GCT. (On the other hand, perhaps he didn’t know that. But still… ) 2) The insistence on the Jewishness and the need for a Jewish organization rather than a more general benevolent or humanitarian organization would suggest he was trying to target a Jewish looking person and play up to Judeo-centric sentiment. (But, on the other hand, if he were really an orthodox Jew, he might be that Judeo-centric anyhow.) 3) Oh, and one more thing which bodes ill for the chances of my ever seeing that $30 again. He hasn’t e-mailed to thank me.
FACTOR (MAYBE MAYBE MAYBE) ENCOURAGING AN "AYE" VOTE
On the other hand, --and I took this to be a perversely auspicious sign-- he made no expansive gestures of gratitude. In fact, he was still kind of obnoxious after I gave him the money. That suggests to me that he really was just an obnoxious self-involved guy in need and wasn’t interested in putting the performative cherry on top of his heartlessly cynical Sundae of a scam. Ingratitude as a mark of authenticity.
DARKER SPECULATION OF THE DAY:
In thinking about the incident, another, darker thought went through my head. What if he was not only not Jewish, but an Islamic terrorist trying to finance a bombing entirely from Jewish donations? What a darkly twistedly ironic plot that would be--as diabolically brilliant in its own way as turning our planes into bombs. Oh how he would relish the feeling (in my case, the illusion) of having preyed on the very Judeo-centric feeling he so despises to fund his anti-Zionist crusade. The glory of destruction amplified by the brilliance of deception. How it would make his terrorist act an exquisitely elevated double violation—one not only of body but of mind.
RECURRING REFRAIN OF THE DAY:
Ok, so is that idea worth $30???
No way I would have thought of it without having given the money and gone through the semi-obsessive retrospective thinking about the whole affair.
And even if you don;t value this idea quite so highly, you might still be willing to proffer an "Aye" vote on the second and final TEDDY VEGAS BRANDED Interactive poll question of the day.
TEDDY VEGAS BRANDED INTERACTIVE POLL QUESTION OF THE DAY #2:
Was this blog entry worth $30? In assessing this, try to factor in not only the worth of the paranoid and provocative speculation referenced above, but all the ongoing suspense and entertainment value of our daily wait to see if the check arrives in the mail!
Oh the fun we’ll have!!!
Can’t wait to count your votes!
SPORTS COMMENTARY OF THE DAY:
Did anyone catch Keith Hernandez commenting on seeing a woman in team uniform in the Padres dugout on Saturday?
"Who is the girl in the dugout, with the long hair?" Hernandez said. "What's going on here? You have got to be kidding me. Only player personnel in the dugout. I won't say that women belong in the kitchen, but they don't belong in the dugout,"
When he found out she was the team masseuse, he remarked "Only in California."
Hernandez, then laughed and said: "You know I am only teasing. I love you gals out there -- always have."
SPORTS META COMMENTARY OF THE DAY:
Love ya, Keith. Always have.
NON SPORTS SPECTACLE OF THE DAY:
I see a man on a bench feeding and talking to a pigeon.
MAN: (ALL FRIENDLY) Hi Mr. Bird. Want some pizza? Yes. Good, huh? Oh yes. Pizza's good. Would you like a little more? Ok. Here you go. Yes, pizza's good huh. You like pizza, don't you Mr. Bird? Yes. Yes. Very good. Oh, you want more? Ok, here's a little more. Mmm. Yummy. Yes, yes. You like Pizza, don't you Mr. Bird.
The pigeon loses interest and flies over to some other food source.
MAN: (BITTERLY). Whore!
SUBTEXT OF SAID SPECTACLE:
Hey, did those last 45 seconds together mean NOTHING to you???? (A comment I suspect would be equally applicable to his paid sex providers--hence the bitter exclamation "whore.")
RANDOM SINGLE SENTENCE PORTRAIT OF THE DAY:
He was proud of his avuncular exploits.
CONCEPT OF THE DAY:
Unmarried polygamist
ABSURDIST APPLICATION OF CONCEPT OF THE DAY:
On the application where it said "Marital Status," he would write "Unmarried Polygamist."
Incidently, under "Sex, " he would write "Occasionally."
CURIOUS FACT OF THE DAY:
Evidently, a penny is now worth more than a penny. Evidently, it costs 1.4 cents to manufacture a penny. I'm not an economist, but I think there's some kind of a fundamental problem here. Like some crazy arbitrage opportunity. I think the sad truth is, they're going to have to stop the pennies.
It reminds me of an old idea I had of going into the bank and saying that I wanted to buy a 1000 quarters and when they told me it would cost $250 dollars, I'd say, "Since I'm buying them in bulk, don't I get some kind of a discount? I mean, can't you bring the unit price down to like 23 cents each?" I thought it was a comedic exercise in absurdity...but then I read about the pennies.
I'm telling you. They're gonna have to stop the pennies.
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April 20, 2006
OBSERVATIONS OF THE DAY:
Design Within Reach is having a 10% Off Sale. So it’s now Design Ever So Slightly More Tauntingly Just Out Of Reach.
PHENOMENON OF THE DAY THAT SHOULD HAVE A NAME:
The experience of encountering a person who's made an appearance in your dream the night before. The momentarily disorienting double exposure of the person in the dream and the person in the flesh. The difficulty of reconciling the two.
WEIRD OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
An avocado pit is the perfect size for a gimp ball. Don't ask me how I realized that. I think I was trying to put the whole thing in my mouth to suck the remnant avocado traces off of it, when I made the strange connection. And NO! I have never had a gimp ball in my mouth or the remotest desire to have a gimp ball in my mouth. I only really know the image from that scene in Pulp Fiction where Bruce Willis and Vingt Rayhmes are subjected to that particular perverse form of degradation.
REFLECTION TRIGGERED BY WEIRD OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
Speaking of which, I have always wanted to write a brief analysis of that movie revolving around the narrative logic of that scene. If you recall, the WIllis character and the Rayhmes character are mortal enemies at that juncture--the latter is hell bent on killing the former for failing to throw a fight that he'd paid him off handsomely to throw and for having screwed him royally by so not doing. Anyhow, in the middle of this macho fight to the death, they end up stumbling into this twisted episode of basement debasement in some gay sado-psycho's store. Somehow, Bruce Willis manages to escape and is about to leave the store and get away free and clear from his mortal nemesis Rayhmes when he pauses and decides to return. It is as if he is honoring a deeper law or logic. A code of honor that trumps the imperatives of sheer survival. Indeed, in the eccentricaly macho world of Tarantino's movies (and pretty much everywhere else) the only thing that would make you risk your own life in behalf of your mortal enemy is the spectre of him having his rectum violated against his will by another man. Indeed, the entire macho logic, of kill or be killed phallic combat depends on the sanctity of the anal sphincter. The need to preserve and safeguard that physical and symbolic limit transcends every other need. Even the need to survive. It is as if nothing in the game is as important as the framework within which the game is played. And a threat to the playing field itself is more important thana threat to any player on the field. The paper if I were to ever write it would be called something like "The logic of homophobia in the films of Quentin Tarantino (and in pretty much every other guy film not called "Brokeback Mountain") or some such." Homosexual violation is the one thing that makes mortal enemies unite.
REFLECTION TRIGGERED BY REFLECTION UPON WEIRD OBSERVATION OF THE DAY:
Oh, another, far more innocent and sentimental association with the avocado pit. One of my earliest memories is as a little boy, eating two avocados with my dear sweet grandmother. We took the two pits and planted them in two separate pots. Her pit never really amounted to much. But my avocado plant thrived and lived for many many years in her apartment in brooklyn--a touching symbol of continuity, growht and life. I remember my grandmother --who used to say as she watered her plants "eveerything wants to live, everything wants to grow"--marvelling at its longevity. The complete innocence and sweetness of this story (and of all my previous associations with Avocados), makes the incidental association with a gimp ball all the more jarring. A Lynchian migration from the realm of darkness into the realm of light.
RECONFIGURED TRUISM OF THE DAY:
One in the bush is worth two in the hand.
HONESTLY MISREAD HEADLINE OF THE DAY:
I read “Bush Claims Rumsfeld Crucial to Terror War.” As “Bush Claims Rumsfeld Crucual to Error War.”
SOCIAL EXPERIMENT OF THE DAY: The brutally honest phishing letter.
After almost falling for the first highly professional looking electronic personal information update request from my bank (an e-mail which I received about 6 months ago and which introduced me to the dank and devious world of online “phishing.”), I have noticed a marked decline in the standards of the illicit craft. (mimicry). Indeed, I have seen e-mails with tilted or pixelated bank logos, egregious and multiple misspellings (“to garantee you’re security”, “at you’re convienance.” Etc.) and with a complete lack of correspondence between the signature and the name typed beneath it. It seems like the practitioners of this scam have been so spoiled by the ease of their success, that they have abandoned even the most minimal efforts at simulated authenticity. It’s the online equivalent of phoning it in. I mean, as a mark or target of the scam, it’s almost insulting that they deem it unnecessary to press Spell Check. And even more insulting that they seem not to need to. Anyhow, this made me think it would be quite interesting to send a mock brutally honest, totally candid transparent “Phishing letter”…which would say something like this:
Dear____
This is in no way a legitimate communication but rather a shameless attempt at identity theft. Despite the presence of your bank logo above ((copied and pasted from the internet), we are in no way affiliated with your bank or any other legitimate financial institution. No, there is nothing legitimate about this request, except a legitimate desire to scam you out of your money. If you have any sense whatsoever, you will immediately delete and then report this e-mail. But if you are a complete idiot, or are not reading this explicit piece of full disclosure, PLEASE PRESS THE LINK BELOW AND RE-SUBMIT YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION. Again, this is not IN THE INTERESTS OF UPDATING OR RECONFIRMING YOUR ACCOUNT INFORMATION, but rather merely in the interests of robbing you blind. Thank you so much for being a pathetically laughable idiot or for not reading this or for both.
We look forward to stealing your money and your identity and making your life a living hell.
Yours Sincerely,
Scam Artist
I am willing to bet that there would still be a reasonable percentage of respondants who follow the bold type and give up the digits of their demise.
But in a culture where popsicles need to have warnings that say "To preserve firmness, keep in freezer below 32 degrees Fahrenheit", I guess that’s no surprise.
RELIGIO-ETHNIC CATEGORY OF THE DAY:
Spewish. (Spanish speaking Jew. Reported to me in reference to a Columbian woman of Hebraic persuasion.) Until hearing this definition of the tern, I would have assumed it had some more pornographic significance.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
(From a student to his 7th grade non-caucasian English teacher, as reported to me by said non-caucasian English teacher).
Are you Republican or Dominican?
TELEVISION COMMENTARY OF THE DAY:
Been watching the first season of “Lost” on DVD. Quite enjoyable—a few patches of horrendous dialogue and a few bits of terrible acting notwithstanding. I’m always amused when we suddenly see some of the plane crash survivors who have presumably been marooned on the island all along but have never made it into the central narrative. They appeared, for example, as if ex -nihilo to wave goodbye to the folks setting off on their self-made boat in the final episode of the first season. Positioned in the background, in the cracks and spaces between the show's principles, they wave their big “hey we’ve been here all along and haven’t gotten any face time” waves of farewell and resentment. Sort of funny. Plus, for some reason, I always want to punch the impossibly kind and understanding curly haired former National Guard Iraqi with the terrible Arab accent. Don’t know why. Just do.
NEW YORKER OBSERVATIONS OF THE DAY:
Did you read either the article about the Donner party or the Martin Amis short story about Mohammad Atta's Last Day in the New Yorker? What was it, the Special Spring American History Downer Issue or something?
A knock on Anthony Lane in re my friend’s movie. As you know, from a previous posting, I always feel that, while he's an obviously gifted writer, Anthony Lane tends to subordinate his role as an accurate describer of the movie in question to his role as a clever entertainer. Anyhow, I revisited this feeling this week when I read his somewhat favorable review of my friend Caveh’s “I am a Sex Addict.” I was aware of how my friend had been working for about 15 years to get this thing on the public radar. And when it finally arrives at Mount New Yorker and Anthony Lane is asked to say a few words about it, he doesn’t even deign to describe the movie in any detail, but rather allows his review to hinge on something as extraneous to the story as the guy’s alleged visual ressemblance to Harpo Marx. It feels not only a bit gratuitous but verging on the critically irresponsible. But that said, the review did make me laugh. So, I won't get all fuddy duddy about the moral and cultural responsibility of the critic.
NEW CONCEPT OF THE DAY:
The Stuporstar. (I can think of a few people who fit that bill. Both in public life and in obscurity.)
ARTICLE OF THE DAY:
Bill Mckibben’s article in the New York Review of Books about the web as a truly revolutionary force in the reshaping of democratic politics…via aggregating, open sites like Dailykos.com. Worth checking out. Evidently there are people out there who use the internet for purposes other than checking stock prices, checking sports scores, losing money in poker and watching porn. I don’t know too many of them. But evidently, they are out there.
Quipping aside: It is cool to see that one of the progressive applications of the internet is the collective shaping of coherent position papers for the Democratic party--on such matters as the enviroment. healthcare etc. It seems to be clearly presenting an important challenge to the inveterate cronyism and entrenched ineffectiveness of party politics as usual.
MOTTO OF THE DAY:
I hate to whine, but they say you shouldn’t hide your talents.
SENTENCE OF THE DAY:
In his dream he couldn't tell if the character was a cyborg imitating a human or a human less convincingly imitating a cyborg.
POLL QUESTION OF THE DAY:
(Although I don’t dare dream of having as many person respond as I did with the Photo caption contest!)
Who do we feel worse for, Brittney’s Baby or Tomkat’s baby? Who has the tougher row to hoe? Who is more desperately in need of a benevolent kidnapping or state intervention?
KNICKS' SHAME OF THE DAY: (NAY, SEASON)
It's not just that they flat out sucked. It's not just that they ridiculously underachieved. It's not just that they lost more games than almost any Knicks team in history with the highest payroll in basketball. It's that they made no discernable progress in the attitude department; developed no collective sense of what it takes to succeed as a team. Blame Brownie. Blame Marbury. Blame whomever you want. But from the constant Marbury-Brown public bickering to the obsene team celebration after a 20 point loss in Indaina (?) a few weeks ago to the fact that virtually no one on the team except the rookies and Jamal Crawford (See Mo Taylor's quote about where he'll be next season "I don't care. It doesn't matter.") seems to care if they come back next year or not--the evidence is incontrovertible.
RANDOM CHARACTER PROFILE OF THE DAY:
He liked to come up with pithy distillations of complex phenomena but he also liked to elaborate variations and permutations of these concise formulations—thus achieving the perverse status of being simultaneously succinct and verbose.
POIGNANT EXPERIENCE OF THE DAY
For the last year and a half, my friend Derrick and I have been giving free advice in Central Park on Sunday afternoons. We brings out a bridge chair and put up a sign (“Free Advice: Photos $1”) and invite passers by to talk to us about the pressing issues they’re trying to resolve in their lives. Essentially, we just listen with some compassion and a little bit of insight and help our advice victims take their own best counsel—occasionally arming them with some specific practical suggestions for moving forward. One of the reasons it has worked so well, is that people are more inclined to unburden themselves to two complete strangers whom in all likelihood they’ll never see again, than to a close friend who may have a vested interest in the outcome of their decision. Indeed, the anonymity and sense of impermanence is somehow essential to the experience. Anyhow, this week’s advice giving session was particularly poignant. Not only was it our first outing of the year (and as such rich with the promise of new beginnings) but it was also one of our last ever (and hence evocative of endings)—as my partner in crime Derrick has decided to relocate to the southwest to begin the next chapter of his life. Much as the consultations are intensified by the knowledge of their impermanence so too the whole outing was suffused with the knowledge of the imminent departure of my friend and partner and, as such, was bathed in a kind of bittersweet nostalgia for the present. After the last advisee left and before we folded up shop, I looked at the empty white chair sitting before us. The chair struck me as a material reminder of impermanence; of the primacy of the here and now. I was feeling how in some metaphysical sense we all occupy the chair in each other’s lives. We all appear from out of nowhere. Sit down. Face each other. Engage—directly or not-- some matter of the heart. And then move on. The Sunday in the park advice encounters are some way is a distillation of all encounter. Acuter perhaps for being briefer. Less obscured by habit. Less distanced by familiarity. Anyhow, it was moving. I guess I have to decide whether I will find a new bench partner (auditioning them would make one hell of a reality show) or whether I'll let it fade into the distance, like an advisee whose consultation had come to an end.
ENDING OF THE DAY:
The end.
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April 14, 2006
AGNOSTIC MUSING OF THE DAY
Last night I broke with an ancient Judaic tradition (3300 years or so?) and decided to forego the observation of the first night of Passover in order to partake in the rites and rituals of my other religion, basketball. Now it’s not like I passed over Passover entirely. I would never have actively rejiggered my calendar of semi-religious observance in order to accommodate a basketball game. No, I am a non-interventionist non-god. I simply took advantage of the fact that my Jew crew’s annual seder had been scheduled for The Second Night of Passover (Thursday) this year instead of the first—allowing me to play in my weekly Wednesday night basketball game. On the way over there, I was thinking, you know, if there is a God, he might be pissed off with me. He might be thinking, “I part the waters so you can escape from Egypt and lay all kinds of plagues on Pharaoh and instead of saying "Thanks, God. Strong work" you ignore me and play hoops?” I’d better be very careful cause he may have some nasty injury in store for me. A little sprained ankle or poke in the eye to punish me for my wayward ways. But what I discovered was that God, if he exists, had a much more sadistically merciful form of punishment in store for me. He simply made me SUCK. Big time. He sent down a veritable plague of airballs, errant passes and clanked rims. I had more trouble finding the hole than I ever had finding the afikomen. But then I noticed that a few of the other wayward Jews on the court were playing quite well. Hmm. God wasn’t making them suck for playing on Passover. Maybe he was just angry with me. Or, maybe, just maybe it had nothing to do with God. Maybe—and here was the cruelest punishment of all—I simply sucked with no God and no one to blame it on.
CONCEPT OF THE DAY DOING DOUBLE DUTY AS REDUNDANCY OF THE DAY
Non-interventionist non-god.
TAGLINE FOR THE FRUGAL SENTIMENTALIST
Say it with Flower.
MOVIE PLUG OF THE DAY
My friend Caveh Zahedi's film “I Am A Sex Addict” opened at IFC Waverly on Wednesday. Check it out. It’s a funny. idiosyncratic movie, 15 years in the making, about his obsession with getting felatio from prostitutes and his obsession with telling the truth—inconveniently paired obsessions that, not surprisingly, helped destroy his first two marriages. I can assure you, it’s not like any movie you’ve seen. And under the guise of plugging my friend’s movie, I will mention that I wrote the tagline on the poster. “A compulsively true comedy.” As I recall, I submitted a few others that I liked, including: “A comedy of the world’s oldest confession.”, “Warning: Contains Full Frontal Honesty” and the more graphic but less ennobling “One man’s search for love: A blow by blow account.”
Good luck Caveh!
METS UPDATE OF THE DAY: DELGADO 1, CHENEY 0
My delight in the Mets' victory over The Washington Nationals yesterday was enhanced by the fact that Dick Cheney had thrown out the first pitch. Not only had he thrown out the first pitch, but he was roundly booed before, during and after throwing out the first pitch. It was like winning a double header while only playing one game. It was cool to see Carlos Deglado, the league's only vocal opponent of the War in Iraq, get a base hit in the first inning. I would love to know if the ball he hit was the same ball the Imperial Veep (and "DUCK!!!!" hunter ) threw out. Since there's no way of getting confirmation of this, I'm going to take the liberty of assuming it to be true. Cause if there's one thing Cheney and Co. have taught us, it's that the facts really don't matter. Belief is all. The Spin shall set you free.
NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY AND ASSOCIATED CRY OVER SPILLED MILK OF THE DAY
Howard Dean: Is the president dishonest or just incompetent?
Salon's Michael Scherer reports on a breakfast with Howard Dean:
Howard Dean called this morning for the Bush administration to declassify a Pentagon report that apparently disproves President Bush's claim that mobile labs found in Iraq constituted "weapons of mass destruction." As the Washington Post reported today, Bush made this statement in 2003, after a team of experts dispatched by the Defense Intelligence Agency concluded that the labs had no military value.
"We are going to call for, probably today, the declassification of the report," Dean said at a private steakhouse breakfast today with reporters. "Everybody can see what's in that report, so everybody can make their own judgments about whether this president and this administration is incompetent or whether he was dishonest. It has to be one of the two."
Teddy Vegas comments on Michael Scherer reporting on a breakfast with Howard Dean:
Not to say I told you so, but to say I told you so all the same, my friend and I did up an entire ad campaign for the 2004 elections based on precisely this inescapable logic. Based on the radical divergence between Bush’s statements and the realities of his administration on matters as diverse as education, health care, the environment and Iraq, we pointed out that there were only two possible explanantions: Dishonesty or incompetence. Each ad presented the statement and the reality and then asked the viewer to decide. Dishonest or incompetent. Either way, it’s time for a leader who leads rather than misleads.
We submitted the ads to the Democratic spin machine (through a friend of a friend contact) and in their infinite wisdom they not only never used them, but never even acknowledged the receipt of our ideas.
Anyhow, I don’t want to add to the general climate of finger pointing and bitchery associated with the still painful and (I still believe) unnecessary defeat, but it came to mind when I saw Howard Dean evoke precisely the same language in this limited (but expansively applicable) context the other day. It just seemed that language, that refrain, that rhetorical battering ram would have serviced Kerry so well in all the debates and on the stump. "You tell me, Mr. President. How do you account for this discrepancy? Is it dishonesty or Incompetence? There are no other alternatives." And on the stump: "There are only two possibilities. Either it is dishonesty or it's incompetence? Either way, we all deserve better. Etc. " Anyhow, don’t get me started. Old wounds. Old rage. Pass the salve of televised sport. Pass the REMOTE!!!!!
Hell with it. Let go, Vegas. Let go. Get the spleen out of spasm. It’s not like I’d be too delighted to see Kerry in office right now anyhow. Such a gutless, wooden turd of a candidate. Plus, had the Democrats won, I would have been denied the satisfaction of seeing the current administration’s ignominious descent...and yet..and yet...
Ok. Enough godawful winge-ing.
APHORISM OF THE DAY:
You’ve gottta accentuate the positive. Or convert to Judaism. :)
DESCRIPTION OF THE DAY:
Don't think of his apartment as a mess. Think of it as a very large "Do Not Throw Out" pile.
THOUGHT OF THE DAY: (Motivated by the aforementioned description of the day).
Order is just chaos in disguise.
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Posted on 4/14/2006
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April 09, 2006
NOTE TO MY READER(S) OF THE DAY:
I want to thank all of the contributor to the first ever Digital Napkins Caption Contest. Without all of you person who participated in it, it wouldn't have been the rousing success that it was. I want to thank all of you guy for your excellent caption. :)
IMPLIED REALITY OF THE DAY:
I call Ticketcharge to get tickets to a play I've heard is good ("Red Light Winter.") I hear the following pre-recorded message: "Welcome to Ticketcharge…We proudly accept American Express." But, when it's time to pay, I tell them I'll be paying with a Mastercard and there seems to be no problem. So I suggest to the guy that they should make clear in the pre-recorded message that they do in fact accept all forms of charge or credit card, and if they have some special relationship with American Express they can say something like: "Welcome to Ticketcharge. We proudly accept American Express. And we ambivalently embrace Visa, shamefuly countenance Master Card and barely tolerate the Discover Card."
NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY:
I read that Dick Cheney is set to throw out the first pitch at the Washington Nationals' home opener next week. I'm pretty sure that every 78 year old lawyer in the crowd will be ducking for cover. Actually, it would be brilliant if they could coordinate it so that just as the Imperial Veep goes into his wind-up, every single person in the stands squats down in unison.
SINGLE SENTENCE PORTRAIT OF THE DAY:
He was such an injustice collector that some small but undeniable part of him couldn't help resenting his newborn son for not having the common courtesy to congratulate him on becoming a father.
MUNDO BIZARRO SPORTS UPDATE OF THE DAY:
Mets in first place. Detroit in first place. The Yankees in last place. The Knicks beating two playoff bound teams with last second shots in consecutive games. Ichiro hitless for an entire series. Barry Zito with an ERA of 47.25. Jose Reyes with more homers than Barry Bonds. Tiger fading down the stretch at The Masters. Can it be long before frogs start falling from the sky?
UPDATE OF THE MUNDO BIZARRO UPDATE OF THE DAY:
Since scribbling the above entry, I see that Barry Zito pitched a shutout (cutting his ERA in half) and Tiger put up a valiant fight in the Masters. Not a true reversal of the aforementioned bizarreness, but i suppose enough to call off the raining amphibians.
POETIC MOMENT OF THE DAY:
Last night, while feeling a bit melancholy, and scanning through the channels for some kind of narcotizing inanity, I stumbled upon a visibly aged Kris Kristofferson, alone on the stage of one of the late night talk shows, He was singing a slow, soulful song with a mournfully beautiful descending baseline--that I later learned was called "This Old Road." Perhaps it was just a function of my emotionally raw state, but the stark, simple dignity of a man alone with his guitar, singing a somberly moving song of experience really stopped me in my tracks. It was startlingly incongruous in the escapist medium of television-- sort of like stumbling upon a bald eagle in the middle of an amusement park or a gazelle in the middle of a video arcade. He delivered his song with a subdued purity of feeling and a directness of voice that put to shame the melismatic histrionics of so many of today's singers. Again, it was probably just my emotionally receptive state, but I found myself thinking about the Orphic power of song to restore us to our deeper, truer selves; to reawaken us to our own mortality and to the precious, grace -flecked path we travel in the imperfectly perfect medium of time. When the song ended and Conan O'Brien finally came onto the stage (it turns out to have been The Conan O'Brien show), he seemed genuinely blown away. Like, "Man, it's gonna be hard to go back to quippy little gags after that one." The verdict: when they're both in fighting shape, it's music over comedy by unanimous decision--assuming the ringside judges are feeling a little blue.
BEAUTIFUL IRONY DU JOUR
(As reported to me by a friend since I didn't see it myself). Evidently, during some BBC coverage of the recent riots and protests in France, the on camera interviewer located a perfectly cool 19 year old French girl who looked like a poster child for La Revolution. He asked her what she was protesting for and she said without any intended irony (and obviously in French) "We are protesting because we want things to remain exactly the way they are. We want it to be for us just like it was for our parents." It's a long way from May 1968 to May Not 2006. Stasis is the new Revolution. Viva La Resistance. To anything or anyone different. To anything or anyone new.
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Posted on 4/9/2006
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April 05, 2006
Walking down W. 46th St on my way to the theater last night, I see a huge vertical brightly lit sign for "Scientology" right in front of the sign for "Beauty and the Beast." I'm thinking Scientology the musical? Wow, what a great idea! But I'm really surprised that I haven't heard Tom Cruise and his fellow Thetanologists complaining about it since they seem to complain about virtually everything else. Then I walk closer and realize that despite its perfect mimicry of a Great White Way theater sign, and despite the fact that it stands in the middle of the world's most famous theater district, it is in fact not a Broadway show at all, but an 'actual' church. I can not tell if the mimicy of a Broadway show is intentional or unwitting. Perhaps the aesthetics of the star-worshipping church are so closely aligned with the garish aesthetics of the entertainment world as to be indistinguishable. Anyhow, it stands there as the perfect (and perfectly humorless) parody of a church, just as Scientology is arguably the perfect (and perfectly humorless) parody of a religion. It is truly fascinating and I cannot believe I never noticed it before. Religion as theater in the very place where theater functions as religion. I mention my observation (and my genuine, if temporary ,confusion) to my mother and her husband as we wait on line to see the theatrical adaptation of the Dogma 95 film "The Celebration" (retitled "Festen" for the stage) and he tells me that many many years ago an old friend of his dropped out of college and ran off with L. Ron Hubbard's wife. Then we went in and saw a nice play about family and incest and suicide, which played more like a dark comedy than the emotional shocker I had been expecting.
P.S. I just did a Google search for The Church of Scientology in NYC just to make sure that wasn't a Broadway show after all. And I am surprised anew to discover that it is really and truly their church. I'll check again in a few hours just to make sure again.
Oh, and as I post this, I see it's snowing outside. I have to go check Google to make sure I'm not mistaken about that too.
RANDOM EXCHANGE OF THE DAY:
-You want to hear something interesting?
-What?
-The sound of my voice.
NEPOTISTICALLY MOTIVATED QUOTE OF THE DAY:
"Those 9/11 911 tapes are a true lesson in the never ending need to question authority, huh?" -My Brother
SINGLE SENTENCE PORTRAIT OF THE DAY:
He was jealous of almost everyone, including himself.
SENTENCE OF THE DAY:
He was convinced that the aliens were built by pyramids.
MOVIE REFLECTION OF THE DAY:
Reading Anthony Lane's review of the recently re-released "Double Life of Veronique" by Kieszlowski, I remembered my first impression of the film after seeing it about 15 years ago. To wit, I was not sure whether I had just seen something really really profound or a 2 hour perfume commercial. Subsequent viewings of films by the masterful Polish director put me squarely and resolutely in the former camp (at least retrospectively), but until I'd seen those other films (notably, "Red", "White," "Blue" and "The Decalogue" series), I really didn't know what to think. This uncertainty is quite distinct from the unresolved and ongoing ambivalence with which I regard most of the films of Lars Von Trier. I tend to find his works brilliantly, transcendently, luminously, unforgettably, maddeningly, irresponsibly, exasperatingly, adolescently, insultingly impressive and I had "Dancer in The Dark" simultaneously on my worst films of the year list and best films of the year list the year it came out.
NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY:
On the theme of ambivalence and mixed feelings: For the first time ever, Apple Computer has provided software that allows users to run PC rather than Mac programs on their machines. In effect, they are opening the gate to Gates. In the computer world, this is the equivalent of the Berlin wall coming down, although it is not being greeted with as much fanfare (at least on the Mac side of the divide, where the famously brand loyal quasi-elitist underdogs are feeling a bit betrayed by this business driven accomodation.) As a Mac guy, I'm less than thrilled. As an Apple share holder, I'm totally jazzed. With any luck, the move will make me enough money to buy one of those new Macs with the Intel chips that I'm so ambivalent about. If only ambivalence always had such rewards, I'd be a very rich man.
CONCEPT OF THE DAY:
Non consenual masturbation.
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Posted on 4/5/2006
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April 03, 2006
DIGITAL NAPKINS CAPTION CONTEST #1
In honor of the start of the baseball season and all of the soaring promise associated therewith, here is a image to bring us back down to earth with a thud. If there is a photograph that captures more soon-to-be-squandered collective promise, I'd like to see it. Maybe, just maybe a shot of Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin from early 1969. But while that image would exist under the sign of the truly tragic, this one belongs more to the tragi-comic. Indeed, crackheads and ear biters lack the gravitas associated with the prematurely OD-ed. There is no ennobling finality to their stories, just a continuing string of ever more absurdly undignified hijinx.
Anyhow, Ladies and Gents, your captions please.
CONSUMER OBSERVATION OF THE DAY
Yesterday it seemed that everyone I know went to The Container store. I think it was national Containment Day. The line at the store at 18th and 6th Ave. went on forever. The place was buzzing. People could barely contain themselves in their zeal for containment. And I don't think it was just about organizing one's stuff in response to the vital wake-up call of Spring. I think it was about containing one's burgeoning vernal appetites, anxieties and desires. It was really something. Everyone, trying to come up with their own idiosyncratic strategy of containment for both the concrete and abstract stuff they were trying to organize, control, master. People were spilling out onto the streets. The store itself wasn't big enough to contain the container-seeking throngs.
SCARY SIGHT OF TH DAY
Sharon Stone on Jon Stewart. They did something really scary to her face. And, it appears, her personality. She’s become like 50 going on 15. She used to be really smart and engaging and down to earth and during this interview she was like totally a mean girl flirting kinda blankly with the nerdy Jew boy who she like isn't supposed to have a crush on, but like kinda sorta does. Ya know?
ANALOGY OF THE DAY:
Condi Rice finally conceding that the U.S. probably made 'tactical errors' in Iraq is like Phillip Morris finally coming around to acknowledge that cigarettes are bad for you. Or the Church finally acknowledging that Galileo was right and the earth really does revolve around the sun.
NCAA OBSERVATIONS:
1) This is definitely the first Final Four I've ever seen where arguably the best player in the men's final would also be the prettiest player in the woman's final. (Joakim Noah, Yannick's not so little boy).
2) In retrospect, it should have been clear that Gonzaga was an ill-fated team since their star player had a poster of Che Guevara on his wall and the second best player on the team was named Batista.
SHAMEFUL SELL-OUT OF THE DAY:
The fact that Chevy wants fancy pants Dukie Coach K to pitch their cars and trucks to middle America is mystifying. The fact that the wealthy, lionized coach is willing to shill for them is disappointing. But can you really pay a well-educated guy enough to utter the grammatically confounding line "Chevy...the brand more Americans choose?" Wow. Coach K. The coach more Americans think less of.
HATEFUL MOMENT OF THE DAY:
Jim Cramer responding to a guy calling in with a question to his capitalistic carnival 'Mad Money."
GUY: A big bullish Booyah to you.
CRAMER: A big bullish booyah back to you. Let's make some money., Booyah!!
GUY: I’m worried about Mankind.
CRAMER: Mankind?
GUY: The stock.
CRAMER: Oh good, cause for a minute there I was thinking you’d gone all Albert Schweizer on us. …Booyah!!!
"I am an asshole. Booyah!!"
REPRESENTATIVE ANECDOTE OF THE DAY:
At one point during the Knicks' routinely humiliating loss to Philadelphia, I looked over at the players huddled around Larry Brown during a timeout and noticed that most of the players were more interested in watching some fan try and sink a $98,000 halfcourt shot than in listening to anything being said by their legendary coach. Needless to say, the shot was no good.
ANNOTATED YANNI UPDATE OF THE DAY:
According to Yahoo News, Musician Yanni won't be charged with domestic battery in an alleged dispute with his girlfriend, authorities said Friday. The Greek-born pianist, whose real name is John Yanni Christopher, was arrested March 3 at his beachfront home in Manalapan. His (")girlfriend("), Silvia Barthes, 33, told police Yanni grabbed her and shook her, then threw her on a bed and jumped on her (IN A VIGOROUS IF NOT FULLY CONVINCING SIMULATION OF HETEROSEXUAL MATING ACTIVITY). Barthes had a bloody lip, but told officers she thought she might have hit herself when Yanni shook her, the report stated. (SHE CLAIMED, "I WAS SIMPLY NOT USED TO HIM BEING SEXUAL WITH ME AND HAD TO PINCH MYSELF TO SEE IF I WAS DREAMING. I GUESS I JUST PINCHED TOO HARD.")
NEWS ITEM OF THE DAY:
Here's an article about how there are far more fast food ads on black targeted TV than elsewhere.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060403/ap_on_he_me/diet_black_kids_ads
It's not so much news as, no-duh. And it's not so much racism as socio-economic Darwinism; an instance of the anonymous, quasi-systematic way that the free market conspires to make the weakest members of our society weaker, to, in effect, thin the herd. Only the educated and well-to-do shall enter unto the realm of expensive organic non carcinogenic foods while the ignorant and underpriviledged shall be supersized unto diabetes at Dennys. OK, liberal rant over. Back to my free range organic chicken with fresh morels over long grain wild rice.
RANDOM SINGLE SENTENCE PORTRAIT OF THE DAY:
The world was his oyster but sadly he was allergic to shell fish.
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Posted on 4/3/2006
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