A Bowl of Stupid

The whole "sport hooligan" thing escapes me.

To be honest, the whole thing with obsessively rooting for professional sports, in general, escapes me.

As I've mentioned before, in my opinion, except for pure and abject boredom, there is absolutely no valid reason to root for a professional sports team.

The players on those teams don't know you, they don't like you, and most of them would just as likely have you killed to make a set of curtains out of your skin for their summer home in the Bahamas rather than spend a minute of time with you.

It is a ridiculous endeavor.

And that's what makes the whole idea of "sports hooliganism" all the more absurd (but ultimately, also all the more fascinating from an anthropological standpoint).

Not only do these mouth-breathers become so obsessed with the goings on of players on their favorite teams, they actually get so worked up that they are willing to kill, and be killed, all in the name of a sports team — typically consisting of a bunch of oversized megalomaniacal hop-heads, looking for nothing more than to make enough money to buy another luxury car to wreck, or to pay off the massive gambling debts incurred by their entourage.

However, out of Greece this week comes word of sports hooliganism I can almost understand.

Yes, they are rabid sports-fans, irrationally willing to defend the honour of their team to the death.

Yes, they got completely out of hand at a sporting event involving their favorite team.

Yes, they caused mayhem, destruction and death during an awe-inspiring brawl with their rivals.

But this time, at least it wasn't involving something as silly as soccer or American football.

This time, it was volleyball.

Womens volleyball.

Brawl Halts Team Sports In Greece
Greek authorities have canceled all team sports matches for two weeks after a mass brawl between rival women's volleyball fans left one man dead.

The 25-year-old man who died had head injuries and stab wounds, doctors said. Several other people were injured in the brawl in the Peania area outside Athens.

"They were jumping on our car for five minutes, they were asking for our mobile phones and stabbed our driver," one witness said.

"We had warned that this game was dangerous," the head of Greece's volleyball federation, Thanassis Beligratis, was quoted by the AFP news agency as saying.

What. The. Fuck?

All kidding aside, these are the peoples who birthed a nation that has lasted for over 3,000 years and is generally considered to be the seminal culture that provided the foundation for all of Western Civilization.

And now they're stabbing people at a womens volleyball tournament. For cell-phones.

Words escape me.

(Via With Leather)

Share This

Share This

Today, I signed a contract to sell my condo in South Beach.

I have no housing yet lined up. I don't know exactly where I'm going to live, or even in what country.

I'm just hoping to god I don't wind up like Matt Foley.

Although I do love government cheese …

Share This

I used to box when I was much younger. My efforts, however, were thwarted by the omnipresence of 5-inch thick coke-bottle glasses I had to lug around just so I could see what day it was. So, by necessity, I wad forced to move on to other, less dangerous sports — like rock climbing.

After I got LASIK done a few years ago, however, I was able to pursue various activities I had otherwise been unable to previously without the use of corrective lenses — like rock climbing.

I was also able to get back into boxing about 18 months ago.

Which was great, as I lost over 35 pounds in less than 2 months and was able to relearn a skilled art form that I had otherwise lost in my youth.

It also gave me the opportunity to start sparring in the ring again — which, as anyone can tell you, is always good for someone with a debilitating head injury.

I have, however, been a bit remiss in my training regimen over the past couple months, the cost of which was regaining about 10 pounds that I had previously lost, as well as the loss of hand-speed, power and proper boxing form (well, as much of those as can be expected from a 37 year old).

I went back into the ring this evening to spar hardcore for the first time in a couple months.

And I proceeded to get my ass handed to me on a silver platter. Over. And over. And over again.

My head hurts. My ribs hurt. There's a fair chance that I may have broken my nose again for the 20th or 30th time (this year).

But I'm quickly heading back down to 165 pounds — which is all that really matters at the end of the day, right?

If only I had remembered to use the "Dim-Mak." Ah well, next time.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to start cleaning up after these big green monkeys flying around my dining room. Because you know how much dirt those things can track into the house.

P.S. Extra points for anyone who knows the ridiculously obscure TV show (and movie) references.

Share This

I really don't know where to begin with this one. I really don't.

While driving home the other night with a friend, we were listening to the preeminent hp-hop/rap song of all time — Rapper's Delight by the "Sugerhill Gang." I hadn't listened to it in a while, and I had forgotten just how damn good that song is.

That got me thinking about about why, for all the other music I've discussed on this site, I haven't posted about any good hip-hop/rap music that's been released lately. Not just decent hip-hop, but that same amazing, driving hip-hop that started the industry.

The thought slipped my mind until today, when I saw this article over at The Seminal about how "Hip Hop Isn’t Dying, It Just Sucks."

The author of that article makes some very good points, many of which I unconsciously have been thinking since about …. oh, June 1992.

He pointed out how the rap scene right now is chaotic, without any unity or artistic purpose; it’s just people trying to get rich.

He pointed out how hip hop, as a musical art-form, just isn’t living up to musical standards; how it’s just plain bad.

I agree with him on those, and many of his other points. However, the author also notes:

It takes a lot to “kill” a genre of music. People have been writing about the end of rock and rap since the day they were created. I’m not saying hip hop is dying or dead.

With this I disagree. Rap and hip-hop music is dead. Period. End of story.

And do you want to know just how I know this? Just watch this clip. It's one of the most disturbing videos you'll ever see next to Hayden Christensen's zombie-like portrayal of Darth Vader in Star Wars, or a commercial for fat-free mayonnaise.

Oh. My. God. Yes, rap is dead. As a doornail.

If you know someone who doesn't already hate the Bush Administration, show them this video. That should do the trick.

Share This

Out of New York (where else) this week comes this story:

NY Bus Converted Into Oven for Matzos

It wasn't your typical fire. When police responded to a report that something smelled of smoke in the middle of the night, they found an old school bus that had been converted into a supersized oven for Passover matzos - complete with a smokestack, exhaust fans and working fire.

Police Sgt. Lou Scorziello said police traced the smoke to the bus at about 3 a.m. Friday. He said the back door of the bus, formerly the emergency exit, was the oven door. "All the seats had been removed and the whole inside was an oven," he said.

The derelict red-and-white bus, connected by a plywood passageway to a single-family house, was out of sight of casual passers-by in a Hasidic Jewish neighborhood and had apparently escaped the notice of authorities.

Money quote: "A building inspector said that while the bakery bus wasn't nearly up to code, it was 'very creative.'"

Well, we're nothing if not creative. Just ask Mel Gibson.

(Story via Kang, image via JibJab)

Share This

I know exactly what you mean. I've been saying the same thing for years about American Idol.

(Image courtesy Modal Minority)

Share This

Stephen Stills has provided the music world with many, many gifts - his singing and songwriting skills being the most widely known. However, there is also another lessor-known reason why the music world owes him a debt of gratitude.

It was only after Raycharles "Ray" LaMontagne heard a Stephen Stills song that he decided to quit his job at a shoe factory and pursue a career in music.

In case you're unaware, LaMontagne is himself one of the best folk singer-songwriters in the world today. Frankly, his singing conveys much more than I could ever say. As such, should you want to learn more about him, I suggest you visit his website or the Wikipedia entry about him.

I will say only this — LaMontagne had one of the most haunting voices you will ever hear, conveying an incredible mixture of melancholy, pain and self-introspection unique to only a handful of other folk singers, such as Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie.

LaMontagne has been around for several years now and has released two (2) full albums, but this song off his first album is my absolute favorite. Trust me, his voice will linger with you long after the song ends.

Ray LaMontagne - Jolene

Share This

UPDATE: Thanks to a note from Zesty (who has a disturbingly familiar blog layout), we also know just where they’re going to get it.

Share This

They've really gotta be shitting me. I mean, really.

First, during Sean Hannity’s March 23 radio show, former New York Mayor (and New York U.S. Attorney) Rudolph Giuliani fielded phone calls from listeners. One caller asked Giuliani to clarify his stance on gun control, to which he replied, “I support the First Amendment right to carry and bear arms.”

Okay, for any others also not paying attention during "Con Law I" class, the two Constitutional Amendments at issue are as follows:

Amendment I: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Amendment II: A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.

Riiight. Thanks Rudy, and you're running for President of just what, exactly?

As if that wasn't comical enough, U.S. Attorney General Alberto Gonzales's senior counselor yesterday refused to testify in the Senate about her involvement in the firings of eight U.S. attorneys, invoking her Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination. As aptly noted by the Washington Post:

The decision means a senior aide to the nation's top law enforcement official is in the remarkable position of refusing to testify for fear of implicating herself in a crime.

At least she cited the correct Amendment. It could have been worse - she could have sought refuge under the Eighteenth Amendment, but then she wouldn't have the luxury of getting liquored-up after being granted immunity.

Finally, as if the above stories weren't sufficient justification for lobotomizing all lawyers (myself included), there's this story of the Justice Department's continued efforts to mangle the U.S. justice system. In addition to the now well-publicized political firings of said U.S. attorneys, the Justice Department sought to insert a provision into the reauthorization of the USA Patriot Act that would allow the AG the power to appoint interim U.S. attorneys without Senate confirmation.

Thankfully, Congress passed a bill yesterday stripping the Justice Department and the AG of that power, which would effectively have given the President and his legal lackeys the power to hire and fire, at will, the highest law enforcement officials in the country - depending on which of Congresses laws they seek to enforce.

Well, I guess it could be worse. A woman could cut off your penis while you're sleeping and toss it out the window of a moving car.

N.B. As you can see, for some reason I'm stuck on a Fight Club/Super Friends theme this week. Sorry about that. I'm hoping it passes before I develop a taste for lobster bisque and crime-fighting.

(Via The Daily Dish)

Share This

But for a handful of shows, I absolutely abhor network television. However, I am ashamed to admit that, among the shows I do watch, I am a closet fan of Heroes. I know, I know - that's almost as bad as being a fan of Good Charlotte. So be it.

If you're unaware, Heroes is the NBC sci-fi drama is about people who "thought they were like everyone else… until they woke with incredible abilities" such as telepathy, time travel and flight.

It is trite. It is campy. It is unintentionally hilarious at times. But it is also addictive.

One of the cheesiest aspects of the show is how serious it takes itself.

Someone really needs to tell all these fucktards that it's all just an act. They're not really heroes and the fate of civilization is not, in fact, based on how much they overact. Shit, even the shows narrator sounds like he's been told that mankind will perish if he does not over-emphasize just how much the cheerleader loves her daddy.

It's a bit like watching a version of The Super Friends that's been produced by the makers of The Young And The Restless.

Unfortunately, as noted above, it's also just as additive.

But finally, finally, someone much smarter and talented than I has produced a parody worthy of the shows name. Holy shit, this is one of the funniest clips I've seen in a while.

Heroes or Zeros

Hands down, best line: "If you could balance a flip phone on your nose, would you use it to save the world?"

(Via Sci-Fi Girl)

UPDATE: Thanks to the omniscience of one of my readers, I learned through a Variety Article that this "Zeroes" clip is just one of dozens, if not hundreds, of NBC-created viral videos the network has clandestinely unleashed over the past year.

I feel so used.

Share This

I left the practice of law almost nine (9) full months ago now. The line I threw out to people, and one which has been echoed elsewhere (including the sidebar of this blog), is that I did it "in a desperate attempt to reclaim my soul." That is only partially true. In actually, I simply did not feel comfortable practicing law. Although I was very good at it, the practice is by definition a contentious career-path, and one which eventually turned me into a bitter, angry sycophant. As a result, I wound up "burning-out" on the practice of law every few years. The latest of such occurrences taking place a little over a year ago.

Luckily, I prepared for this eventuality. Modeling myself after the Count of Monte Cristo, I spent long nights planning my eventual escape.

For that reason, I have had the luxury of being able to pursue several other business ventures over the past year without having to return to the practice of law.

Sadly, all of these business ventures have now gone the way of the dodo - either due to unfortunate partnerships, failed markets, or otherwise. Such is life.

I have done similar things before.

When I left California for Florida almost seven (7) years ago, I did not have a job awaiting me here. Then too, my move was ostensibly for the same reason as my recent bout with under-employment - to leave the practice of law for another, more fulfilling, career. But after shuffling around from one legally-related job to another for several months, I eventually capitulated and returned to the full-time practice of law, which I continued in for the next six (6) years until I again reached another burn-out point.

From what I understand, this is a fairly common occurrence among lawyers - with burn-out periods typically taking (like mine) between 2-3 years to manifest. Indeed, many other lawyers with whom I have spoken also want to quit. These attorneys also grew to hate their jobs, and to hate the people they had become. Several even much more so than I.

Proving Thoreau correct, however, many of those attorneys either were not in a position to actively quit their jobs, or to passive-aggressively throw themselves into a position almost certainly resulting in their departure - both of which I have done.

Some of those lawyers were encumbered with wives, children, extended families, a vaulted place in the community - something requiring them to do that which they ultimately did not wish to do.

But not I.

I have not stayed in any one community long enough for me to make connections significant enough to require my continued presence.

I similarly have not been able to maintain a healthy romantic relationship long enough such that I too have been forced to choose my family over my career (and personal happiness). Indeed, perhaps my underlying distaste for the practice of law was a contributing factor of such romantic failures. I honestly don't know.

Regardless, what I do know is that, due to my being selfishly unencumbered, I am responsible only for myself. Tumbling quickly towards my 40's, I have no mouths to feed, no wife with whom to coordinate schedules, and no business venture requiring my presence.

I am alone.

This role carries with it obvious disadvantages - loneliness, regret, no true home, an ever-revolving circle of friends. I will not lie - these things pain me on a daily basis.

However, I made a conscious decision to trade such things for a life of relative solitude. So be it.

And now, here I am again.

Alone.

Unencumbered.

Desiring nothing more than a change in the status quo.

I have come to despise all that Miami stands for - the corruption, the gluttony, the vapidness, the obsession with money and celebrity. It is beyond redemption. Moreover, for me, Miami has also come to represent a microcosm of what has gone wrong in the United States over the past several years.

So, in what seems an almost certainty at this point, I am once again planning my exit strategy.

This week, I reached a deal to sell my condo in South (Miami) Beach. And if everything goes according to plan, in May, I hope to be moving to Singapore, with stops in Malaysia and Indonesia, for the next several years.

I refuse to live a life that no longer makes sense to me - one in which money, power, beauty, and fame are the ultimate aphrodisiacs. I don't know if I can find something better in the Far East. But I'll be damned to fucking-hell if I'm going to stay here any longer without at least trying to find out.

Share This

Over the weekend, having been "tagged" herself, Lora from The Power of Trinity in turn "tagged" me and several others, requesting that we answer and pass on to subsequent bloggers several questions concerning themselves.

This particular "tagging" exercise requires bloggers to "compose a new blog post listing the top 5 to 10 things that [they] do almost every day that help [them] to be successful."

Being the effete snob that I am, my first instinct was to try to find a polite way of begging off her invitation since, although I think very highly of Lora, I find "tagging" to be the adult equivalent of a homeroom chain-letter ("if you could date anyone in school, who would it be?").

Moreover, the underlying concept, as developed by the initial "tagger" (not the subsequent ones, like Lora), is typically nothing more than an easy means of getting attention; a cheap and easy ploy of shouting to the online world: "look at me, look at me!", which these days often translates into a far more lucrative venture than simply gaining enough votes to be named Homecoming Douchebag of the Year.

In other words, it is glorified spam.

Moreover, even if I were not so supremely cynical as to view tagging in such a harsh light, I really don't think that anyone short of Mahatma Ghandi or Scott Baio is especially qualified to expound on just what made them "successful."

Indeed, nine times out of ten, success can be attributed to nothing more than being in the right place at the right time, or to form following the function of having glorious physical attributes, propelling such genetic freaks ahead of the seething hordes until they overdose and die, sad and alone on some Indian Reservation in the middle of the Florida Everglades.

These issues notwithstanding, as Lora is a complete and absolute sweetheart (and one of the few people who actually reads on a regular basis the nonsense spewing from my keyboard), I attempted to forgo my baseline cynicism and have a go at answering her questions about "The Secret of My Success."

After only a couple seconds, however, I realized it is doubtful that I have any ideas, let alone secrets, of success that could be of any help to anyone anywhere. My only secret be known, for all the benefits I have been afforded throughout my life, I am one of the least successful people I know. I have forever lived in the shadows of others, bitterly surviving off the scraps of their triumphs - an attribute which I unfortunately carry with me to this day. I have also failed to accurately plot the direction of my entire adult life, resulting in one bad decision after another. Moreover, I wound up stumbling, dazed, into a career that eventually robbed me of my soul and compassion.

And when the frustration of living with such miscalculations and mistakes became staggering, I dropped out from all of it - claiming it to be in the interest of my own happiness, although I constantly look back with hunger at that which I voluntarily forfeited.

I'm sorry Lora, but at this point, the only thing I can honestly say is that my decisions should really only serve as a warning to others.

Oh, and as per Brantley Foster, you should never screw the boss's wife. That's really bad, too.

Share This

Share This

Having been raised Jewish, my mom forever encouraged me to meet a "nice Jewish girl." Fine … that's to be expected. But it also tends to be a bit of an issue, considering I'm a pretty bad Jew - tattoos, boozing, godlessness, problems with authority.

But in Amy Winehouse, I've finally found a kindred spirit. Although the girl is Jewish, she's got more tattoos than I do (for now), she's a positively epic boozer, and she apparently has some well-publicized emotional issues. In other words, perfection.

It also doesn't hurt that Winehouse is one of the best female singer/songwriters to come out of England in a very long time. Her award-winning 2003 debut album, Frank, reflected a major traditional jazz influence - one which complimented her vocal talents well.

Many critics believed her alcohol use and emotional problems would ruin her chances for a successful sophomore follow-up. They were absolutely wrong.

Her second album, Back to Black, released in late 2006, was an instant success in the UK. Despite having worked with Wu Tang Clan and other high profile American R&B artists, however, she has not obtained the same amount of notoriety here in the States - yet.

I just sat down and listened to Back to Black in its entirety. Despite (or perhaps because of) her personal issues, Winehouse has recorded one of the best female R&B albums I have heard since "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill."

In contrast to her jazz-influenced first album, Winehouse's focus on this album is described as "shifting to the girl groups of the Fifties and Sixties." As such, although the album was produced by Salaam Remi and Mark Ronson, its tutelary genius is really Phil Spector.

The first single released from the album is the Ronson-produced "Rehab", a song about Winehouse's refusal to attend an alcohol rehabilitation center after it was encouraged by her management company. It is the lead track and, in my mind, the backbone of the album. It sets the tone perfectly for her new focus in '50's and 60's based R&B, and it is absolutely superb.

Amy Winehouse - Rehab

Perhaps the best aspect about this song, and the entire album, is how well Winehouse (together with Remi and Ronson) integrate old school R&B sounds - prominent horn and string sections, pianos, a treble-heavy pitched snare drum, supporting vocals, and low bass beats - with current subject matters and production techniques. It's a bit like listening to Ray Charles had he been allowed to digitally produce, completely uncensored, songs about his ubiquitous womanizing and drug use.

Think raw lyrics with deep, smoky, Billie Holiday-style vocal stylings, combined with Sarah Vaughn, Edith Piaf, and Martha (Reeves) and the Vandells. While I know I throw this line out a lot, in this case I mean it — it's just THAT good.

First, listen and watch the video for "Rehab."

If your still not convinced, check out some of her other songs from the album, starting with this live - and drunken - version of Me And Mr. Jones (which offers probably the best lyrics I've ever heard: "What kind of fuckery is this? You made me miss the Slick Rick gig").

Amy Winehouse - Me And Mr. Jones

Winehouse is incredibly talented. She's also incredibly tweaked in the head (as are most Jewish women). Although I personally love that in a woman, hopefully she'll make it past the drug, alcohol, and anorexia issues to come out relatively unscathed on the other side.

Share This

Despite appearances to the contrary, I really do try to remain as non-judgmental as possible about other people - about their looks, their talent (or lack thereof), their background, their fashion choices - whatever.

Moreover, I generally loathe discussing celerities in general, as I view that as being akin to trying to stop a fire by dousing it with propane. Instead, much like one would deal with a debilitating brain tumor, I typically find the best thing to do is ignore the problem until it goes away.

However, every once in a while something from the celebrity world touches a nerve that sends me off the deep end.

In this case - it's the beast we call the Desolate One, otherwise known in the music industry as "Fergie." I can't put my finger on it, but for some reason, I simply cannot stand that woman.

Maybe it's her demonstrated inability to control her bodily functions; perhaps it's the fact that her hairline extends farther down the front of her face than Wolfman Jack's; maybe it's because she is consistently overrated both in terms of her musical talents and her importance in the grand scheme of things; or maybe it's the fact that she's a roaring drunk.

All those factors aside, however, I think the thing that is truly disturbing is the fact that Fergie has an incredible body that is really only made for one thing.

In that regard, maybe what bothers me is simply that she refuses to show off the only assets that may otherwise offset my utter contempt.

I just don't know.

I do know, however, the woman just bothers the fuck out of me. She may be a fine human being, but she just bothers me. I know I may be repeating myself, having written on this particular subject before. And while I apologize for the redundancy, it's a matter that's on my mind right now.

What set me off this time was something a friend of mine wrote on his blog questioning just what does the face of evil look like. While his conclusions differ from mine in this regard, the question was still ringing in my head when I visited another favorite site of mine, which was running the latest paparazzi shots of this horror show.

I apologize for the somewhat self-indulgent rant. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have to go rinse my mouth out with some Liquid Drano. It's what Leatherface would want.

(Fergie photo via I Don't Like You In That Way - although I won't hold it against Jenny & Todd)

Share This

• New! Deep Fried Sliders At White Castle! "Enjoy your meal, sir! Oh, and by the way - that sound you're hearing? It's the sound of your arteries grinding to a standstill. Please feel free to use our complimentary defibrillator right by the door!" (Via CNBC, by way of The Daily Dish)
• Oops! Technician's Error Wipes Out Data For State Fund. Well, at least now we know who they'll have serving those deep fried sliders over at the White Castle. (Via CNN)
• Saratoga Springs Mineral Water Diluted With Tap Water. This type of story actually gives me a warm fuzzy feeling deep down, considering the amount of money some people fork out just to drink and/or bathe in designer water. Hey douche-bags — it's only fucking water!! (Via CNN)
• British Airways Sat Corpse In First Class. Money quote: "Paul Trinder, who awoke to see the body at the end of his row, last week described the journey as 'deeply disturbing.'” Really?!? That's surprising. (Via Times Online)
• Airline Passenger Urinates In Air-Sickness Bag. SkyWest Airlines apologized to a passenger who said he wasn't allowed to use the restroom during a one-hour flight and ended up urinating in an air-sickness bag. I assume I need not explain the irony of one airline refusing to allow one passenger to take a piss, while another allows first class passage to a corpse. But just in case, I just did. (Via Click 2 Houston, by way of World Bizarre)
• Polish Man Cuts Off His Genitals In A Fit Of Anger. I really don't know which is more disturbing, the subject matter of this story, or the fact that it coincidentally is being carried in an online newspaper entitled "All Head In." (Via All Head In News)

Share This

During yesterday's hearings on global warming, James Inhofe, the former Chairman of the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee, was questioning Vice President Al Gore, who had been invited to testify before the Committee concerning various elements of global warming discussed in his Oscar-award winning documentary, An Inconvenient Truth.

As he apparently did not like the answers he was getting, Inhofe attempted to "shut down" the Vice President, claiming that he didn't want to hear the answers because he thought the responses would take "too much time."

Watch this clip of Inhofe getting slapped down by Senator Barbara Boxer, who now chairs the committee. In particular, pay attention to the look of utter contempt on his face at the end of the clip as he tries to "laugh off" the whole situation.

Now that is a better reason to reconnect my cable TV than any other mindless blather the networks and cable channels hurl out each day like so much projectile vomit.

It's like an idea for a new Mastercard commercial:

• Buying an election = Billions of dollars in soft money contributions.
• Conducting an unnecessary war to repay tenfold the evil old cronies at Haliburton, Exxon, and elsewhere who helped buy your seat of power. = 24,100 U.S. troops wounded in action, 3000 U.S. troops killed in action, and tens of thousands of innocent Iraqis killed in ensuing civil war.
• Losing mid-term Congressional elections after having fucked up the country worse than a five (5) year old with downs syndrome and then getting your ass handed to you on a platter on live TV = PRICELESS.

Share This

From the seemingly never-ceasing realm of "WTF?!?" comes this bit of wholesome family entertainment in honor of women's history month — the "Cunt Coloring Book." Yes, you read that right. The Cunt Coloring Book. Don't look at me like that, I don't make the news, I simply report it. To be candid, I'm admittedly about 18 years behind the curve on this one, considering this book was originally published in January of 1989. But you know what they say, "better late than never" (pun intended).

The book contains about 25 black-and-white drawings of female genitalia, just perfect for you and the kids to have at with a box of Crayola's on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Really, in this day and age, nothing says "quality family time" more than sharing interpretive views of various pooters in dire need of colorization — much like Ted Turner with an old copy of the "Amazon Queen." In fact, I think Turner is actually producing a live action version of the book for TNT.

It's just THAT good.

Frankly, I think the best part about this whole thing (after the fact that Amazon offers a two (2) book special deal if you buy the "Cunt Coloring Book" together with that other new-age classic, "Femalia") is the name of the publishing house that released this little gem of a novella — "Last Gasp Publishers."

How's that for foresight? Let alone foreskin.

(Amazon.com, via Yes But No But Yes)

P.S. I wonder if this is what David O. Russell had in mind when he was "discussing" scene changes with Lily Tomlin on the set of "I [Heart] Huckabees."

Share This

This is another song I heard during my recent Puerto Rico trip aboard American Airline's flying nursery which I had not previously heard of, from the Canadian band — "Pilot Speed" (f/k/a "Pilates"). This song is the first release from their new album, Sell Control for Life's Speed.

Although their sound has room for growth and is admittedly reminiscent of some of the less sophisticated releases from several other good bands (Linkin Park, Radiohead, Travis, and others come to mind), this is still a pretty good song with a really catchy chorus line. Moreover, from what I've heard of their other songs from this CD, they may have a promising future among the "pop-rock" elite. Take a listen.

Pilot Speed - Barely Listening

Share This

First off, I'm feeling much better today. Thanks to everyone concerned who commented, emailed, and otherwise checked up on me about yesterday's debacle. Much appreciated.

Second off, just in case anyone didn't realize, I think this pretty much confirms the fact that I am a complete and utter dumbass. When someone can't remember from one hour to another whether they've already ingested the maximum daily allowance of potentially fatal drug compounds — that's saying something. Just what, I'm not quite sure. But I'm pretty sure it's along the lines of "you sir, are an idiot."

That being said, following my somewhat serious post from yesterday, I initially wanted to lighten things up today. However, I saw something this morning that dictates otherwise.

I have long attempted to steer clear of discussing the Middle East and the ongoing conflicts between Israel and it's neighbors. It is an extremely difficult situation with many diverse views, and there is no clear answer in sight. Moreover, having been raised Jewish, I am expected to automatically side with the Israeli position, regardless of its faults.

But alas, I can not.

Today, new information has come to me (via ZenShadow) which makes my decision a virtual "no-brainer." As such, I must now throw in my lot with the peoples of Beirut for the following two (2) reasons:

And could someone also please drum up a copy of the Lebanese national anthem for me. I've got a date tomorrow night.

Share This

Well, this has turned out to be one really, really, strange day. As several of you may recall from a couple of my earlier posts, I had a pretty bad rock-climbing accident about 15 years ago. As I discussed at length in those posts, I banged myself up pretty bad — shattering my pelvis, ripping up my hands, breaking some ribs, cracking my head up a bit — it was nasty. And quite frankly, it was really difficult for me to write about it. It was the first time I had ever discussed many aspects of the accident, which is the only incident in which I have been involved that has truly, and forever, changed my life.

If anyone was paying attention to those posts, I made mention that I was planning to write a third (3d) and final chapter to that story. And I actually did start writing something; however, to be quite candid once again, I have yet to finish it because I simply don't have the stomach for it right now. It's a bit painful to think about, let alone discuss publicly.

Specifically, after all the broken bones healed up and the scars melted down, I was left with (what I consider to be) a fairly debilitating reminder of the injuries sustained that day — a trauma induced seizure disorder.

I now have epilepsy.

I thought I was ready ready to discuss the full gamut of the disorder, and the road I took towards learning about, and (for the most part) dealing with, the issue.

It turns out that I'm not.

Those who have this disorder, those of my friends who have been through something similar, as well as those of my friends who have either borne witness to my seizures or their after-effects can attest as to just why it's a bit of an issue.

Notwithstanding, along the path I took towards dealing with the problem was working with neurologists to determine the exact drug cocktail necessary to fully control the seizures. As I have learned, this is apparently one of the most frustrating aspects of the disorder, especially given the advancements in modern medicine. Indeed, one of the most prolific epilepsy medications on the market today has been in use for the past 60 years, yet nobody is exactly quite sure how, or why, it works.

While there have been bumps along that road - with several of the drugs at one point transforming me into a raging Jekyll of a character, and others making me suicidally depressed - my seizures are now, and have been for some time, fully controlled with little to no side effects. Thankfully.

I count myself among the lucky ones. There are countless others who have this and similar disorders who are nowhere near to being able to live normal, healthy, happy lives. I try to remember that every time I start metaphorically kicking myself about what happened the day of the accident.

It could have been much, much worse.

That being said, I still need to take my medication every day. If I do not, I will seize — it's not a question of if, but of when.

As a result, if you can say I'm religious about anything at all, it is only with regard to taking my pills. They are my lifeline. They are my savior.

And in the past 15 years, while I have neglected to take them from time to time (either inadvertently or as some sort of latent rebellion), luckily I have never taken a double dose of the medication — until today.

Turns out this is also an issue.

Allow me to explain - in brief.

The area where I hit my head was in the rear-left quadrant of my skull, damaging an inch-wide patch of my brain close to where the motor control functions for my lower lip and my right hand are controlled (which may, although I doubt it, explain any typos in this post).

That area is now dead.

On MRI's, that area looks like an island of black resting among a sea of vibrant colors. It is dead.

Since I really don't use my brain all that much to begin with, it's not really all that big of an issue. Indeed, being both left handed and lazy, it's even more rare that I would touch upon this particular damaged area.

Nonetheless, the human body is a miraculous thing. My brain automatically attempted to "shut off" that dead area and switch, like a circuit-breaker, whatever minor functions being controlled by that area to another unused part of my brain — one of a great many unused areas, I would assume.

However, the brain is essentially one big electrical circuit. And should that "dead" area re-connect with the remaining, regularly functioning, portions of my brain, they will cause my brain to "short circuit" — a seizure.

My medication is a neuroinhibitor, geared towards preventing that from happening; the side effects of which are similar to being drunk — dizziness, fatigue, loss of motor control, delayed reaction times, and lowered cognitive functions.

Thus, in order to obtain the security of a seizure-free life, I must also trade some of my brain functions — sacrificing a portion of that which makes me who I am.

Don't get me wrong, luckily I don't have such side effects on a regular basis (on this medication, that is). Indeed, while on one form of such medication or another, I was able to graduate from college (albeit I graduated from Arizona State University, so I don't know if that really counts), graduate from law school, pass - on the first tries - both the California and Florida bar exams, and practice law for 10 years.

Deep down, however, I can not help but feel that some part of me has been forever lost to my now-requisite addiction.

But that is for another time — back to today.

For the first time ever, I took my medication twice. Two doses.

That means twice the dizziness, twice the fatigue, twice the slurred speech, and most likely twice the loss of cognitive function (and, from reading this post, which ostensibly started out as a "fluff" piece, twice the loss of whatever sense of humour I possess).

So, needless to say, it's been a pretty weird day for me.

I'm feeling a bit strange right now because the medication is effectively depressing my neurological system. As a result, although I did check with my pharmacist and doctor just to be safe, I haven't been able to accomplish much of anything in the realm of what may constitute constructive behavior or making money.

Or remember my name, for that matter.

On the bright side, I have increased my daily allotment of coffee, Red Bull, and various household cleansers on the off-chance they may provide some sort of artificial stimulation — all with little to no effect, as they have been effectively offset by the massive amounts of pharmaceutical-grade prescription depressants I inadvertently ingested this morning.

Like I said, this has turned out to be one really, really, strange day.

P.S. The picture above is of Julius Caesar, a noted epileptic. The following is the website address for the Epilepsy Therapy Development Project, the preeminent online source for information, community and resources aimed at those with, and treating, epilepsy. http://www.epilepsy.com/

Share This

Here's the latest in our continuing series of Public Service Announcements (PSA's)

The sad thing is that I vaguely remember seeing this PSAyyyyy (sorry, I had to do it) when it first came out. I also vaguely remember my mom's response to same. In this regard, I'm extremely lucky that, having been born and raised in the Bronx, my mom is a somewhat of a … well, let's just say a "pragmatist."

As such, her response to this particular ad was along the lines of "what a load of horseshit! What child is going to remember not to do what comes naturally — i.e., screaming — and yell out 'HONK' at the top of his or her lungs?"

Moreover, although I could be mistaken, I also seem to recall my mom posing the rhetorical question to her then 7-year-old-son, whose nose was pressed firmly against the screen of our 12″ black and white television watching reruns of Hogan's Heroes and McHale's Navy, "what kind of jackasses came up with that junk? Oh, they're from San Francisco — well, that explains it."

Well, at least now you know where I get it from.

So here's the next installment — watch it with someone you love — and then go roll some bums down in the Village, just like we used to do in the old days. Ahh, good times, good times.

This one's for you, mom.

The Fonz Says "Just Honk!"

Share This

I know I haven't been keeping up on posting music lately; however, I've been distracted by other things — like trying to find a way to buy food and such. Oh, and surfing and snowboarding trips abroad. Whatever … semantics.

On the return flight from my recent surfing trip to Puerto Rico, I was pleased to learn that American Airlines (AA) has replaced their "smoking section" with a new feature — the "children's nursery section."

Luckily, I was able to take full advantage of this new feature, as my friends at AA so thoughtfully placed me directly in the middle of this new section. As such, not only did it give me the opportunity to reaffirm my underlying desire to never, never have children, but I was also able to take advantage of the "new music" channel being played on the airplane. And at the very low, low price of only $3.00 (for which I get to keep the headphones — RIGHTEOUS!!).

Regardless, there were some really great songs the airline had found which I had not otherwise heard of, including this one from Black Gold, the debut album of King Biscuit Time ("KBT"). KBT is the solo project led by Steve Mason, the lead singer of one of my favorite bands, the now-defunct Scottish group The Beta Band.

I personally think that Mason is a genius. He pulls together very different and unique sounds and makes them work together through the use of rarely used rhythmic timing and off-beats. Moreover, if you pay attention, he lets his own voice lead the song's direction towards crescendo more than any one instrument. That's just some "skillz." The result — some really unique and catchy music, and in this case, a great video too.

King Biscuit Time - I Walk The Earth

P.S. I also highly recommend you check out Chez's latest post about the new Nine Inch Nails release. He's right, from what I've heard this new CD should be amazing.

P.P.S. Good lord, I can't stop listening to this song — it's just that good. Keep listening for the beat changes, and notice the vocal interactions. It's amazing the sound this guy can produce in what is essentially a percussion-based piece.

Share This

Number four (4) in our continuing series of Public Service Announcements is fairly self-explanatory.

On a personal note, I hope to god the guy standing at the next urinal from me at the Paul Okenfeld concert I attended in Miami last night watches and learns — considering his seemingly eternal fascination with the operation of the button-fly on my jeans.

And on the off chance he is reading, I've got just a word of advise in addition to the below PSA — "Dude, I'm flattered, but I don't go that way (not that there's anything wrong with that). Moreover, the next time, your conduct in this regard will likely garner you a black eye and an unwelcome visit with Santa."

On another note, while I do feel horrible about the fact this PSA is not gender-neutral considering it is Women's History Month (sorry Vanessa), it is an issue that must be addressed. So here is today's announcement — learn it, live it, love it.

Male Restroom Etiquette

Share This

Dick Cheney:
(n) Current Vice President of the United States under George W Bush. Most probably the main influence behind George Bush's cunning plan to exploit the memory of September 11th and start a war with a conveniently oil-rich nation in order to distract the American public from the shitty job they were doing at home. See also pure evil.

According to Editor & Publisher, a new Gallup poll reveals that 66% of Americans disapprove of the job Dick Cheney is doing as vice president. That is down six points from a year ago, and is the lowest approval score Gallup has measured for Cheney.

In addition to favorably rating the Vice President, the other 34% of the respondents also approved of the sacrificing of vestal virgin in an effort to help the war effort in Iraq, as well as adding apple-and-cinnamon swirls to their daily cocktails of human blood.

Share This

To prove the point of my immediately preceding post, as if by some crazy interweb magic, I just found this article from Advertising Age (online, of course), entitled "Most Painfully Clueless Press Release of the Week - 700 Views Does Not a YouTube Hit Make."

Apparently, the article's author received a really stupid and pointless press release heralding the latest and greatest "Video Gone Viral" YouTube sensation. The only problem? This supposedly hot viral video has only been viewed on YouTube 700 — 700!!! — times.

Notwithstanding the mountainous dribble now permeating every crevasse of the interwebs, this particular press release is truly flabbergasting considering you can get more visibility by posting a video of your cat on YouTube. In fact, Nora the Piano Playing Cat currently has 1,959,260 more views than this supposed viral video.

I don't get it, really. Some shlub with a phony G.E.D. is getting paid money to write press releases about a "viral video" that has garnered less attention that a random drug test. Meanwhile, I can't seem to convince anyone outside the legal field into giving me a paying job. Christ, I can come up with better SEM and advertising ideas than that, and I've done nothing but write legal briefs for the past 10 years.

Okay, here's one for you; just show these knuckle-dragging nimrods a cat, any kind of cat — big, small, fluffy, shaved, wet, dry, awake, sleeping — what-the-fuck-ever. As noted above, it doesn't matter.

And if you don't like cats, go ahead and use a dog instead. Once again, it's the fucking internet — it just doesn't matter. For the love of god, Disney is producing a live-action "Underdog" movie this year. Trust me, use the same concept on the internet and you'll make a damn fortune with that masterpiece.

You can use that idea. Go ahead and take it. Go ahead — call it a freebie.

Yeah, I know, the world's not a fair place, and stupidity abounds. Whatever. Just know this — if you keep up with that attitude, I'm gonna have to change the name of this site from "A Bowl of Stupid" to "A Bowl of Shut The Fuck Up."

Bitter? Me? Naaaah.

Share This

www.internetisshit.org

Share This