Terry Tate approves this message.

Make sure you watch the whole clip:

Days of Awe

At the risk of being struck by lightning, I give you this amazing Daily Show clip on one of the holiest days of the Jewish year:



And if you missed this Sarah Silverman clip, it is similarly hysterical:


The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.

What in God's holy name are you blathering about?

Sarah Palin in an interview with Sean Hannity:

"Well, there is a danger in allowing some obsessive partisanship to get into the issue that we're talking about today. And that's something that John McCain, too, his track record, proving that he can work both sides of the aisle, he can surpass the partisanship that must be surpassed to deal with an issue like this."

Sarah Palin in an interview with Katie Couric:

"I'm not looking at poll numbers. What I think Americans at the end of the day are going to be able to go back and look at track records and see who's more apt to be talking about solutions and wishing for and hoping for solutions for some opportunity to change, and who's actually done it?"

The Dude talking to the other Jeffrey Lebowski, the millionaire:

"I dropped off the money exactly as per... look, man, I've got certain information, all right? Certain things have come to light. And, you know, has it ever occurred to you, that, instead of, uh, you know, running around, uh, uh, blaming me, you know, given the nature of all this new shit, you know, I-I-I-I... this could be a-a-a-a lot more, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, complex, I mean, it's not just, it might not be just such a simple... uh, you know?"

Eddie Vedder hearts the Cubs

Staring Contest

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll piss yourself

Reacting to concern among some Democrats that his campaign is not pushing back hard enough against increasingly pointed (not to mention misleading) Republican attacks, the NY Times reports that Barack Obama will be stepping up his criticism of John McCain going forward. But if you're worried that this is a knee-jerk reaction that's incongruous with Obama's notoriously disciplined approach to campaigning, the following statement should put your mind at ease:

“We’re sensitive to the fluid dynamics of the campaign, but we have a game plan and a strategy,” said Mr. Obama’s campaign manager, David Plouffe. “We’re familiar with this. And I’m sure between now and Nov. 4 there will be another period of hand-wringing and bed-wetting. It comes with the territory.”


This guy really does seem sensitive to the "fluid" dynamics of the campaign. Sort of a strange choice of words, no? He may as well have said, "We fully expect there will be another period of fretting and vomiting. It comes with the territory." Or, "This is all par for the course. The hand-wringing, the pooping in our pants. That's politics."

You can't spell Rangel without Angel

In an utterly unsurprising development, Representative Charles B. Rangel has been accused of failing to report $75,000 in rental income from his beachfront villa in the Dominican Republic. The 78-year old chairman of the powerful House Ways and Means Committee, which is tasked with the electrifying duty of writing our nation's federal tax code, has asked the House ethics committee to investigate the matter.

Just in case you're counting, that's the third separate inquiry Mr. Rangel has requested since his personal finances began coming under intense public scrutiny in July.

Take a look at this guy:


You believe him, right? At first I wasn't sure if he looked trustworthy, but then I saw all those books behind him.

GracieCouture

Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check.

Velour tracksuit?




Check.

Anyone ever had bacon before?

Poetry in Motion

Have you ever seen Charles Barkley swing a golf club? It looks like this:



Have you ever seen Tiger Woods' impersonation of Charles Barkley swinging a golf club? It looks like this:

That's just Putin bein' Putin.

I never see Vladimir Putin without thinking of my college roommate, Evan. I can't recall the context, but at some point during college we saw the Russian president on television and Evan assessed his autocratic antics as follows:

"Ah, Zoloto. That's just Putin bein' Putin."


It still makes me laugh. Know what else is funny? President Bush's assessment of Putin in 2001:

"I looked the man in the eye. I found him to be very straightforward and trustworthy and we had a very good dialogue. I was able to get a sense of his soul."

For a thought-provoking take on Moscow's recent conduct, check out David Remnick's essay in this week's New Yorker.

And we're back...

See what I did there? I didn't post anything for like two months.

Let's see if we can't ease back into this whole blogging thing with a random picture:


I feel better already. Check back soon for less insane posts.

Young Style

Um...



PS: I can't take credit for the clever title of this post. Saw it on Deadspin.

No, baby... That's just jokes!

By now I'm sure most of you have heard about the Rev. Jesse Jackson's desire to, ahem, cut Barack Obama's nuts off. A contrite Jackson has apologized for his "crude and hurtful" remarks, and Barry has graciously accepted the Reverend's mea culpa.

But if I learned anything from The Big Lebowski and Eddy Murphy Raw, it's that threats of castration (2:35 to 4:03 below) are never to be taken lightly:

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Yup, Gracie and I are going to get along just fine.

Gracie Girl

Dear Grace,

You were born at 10:59am on Thursday, July 3rd, 2008. You weighed 7 pounds 10 ounces and measured 21 inches long. You had dark hair, impossibly long feet and perfect little ears. You were beautiful.


The sun was shining by the time you arrived that morning, but it was cool, dark and rainy when Mom and Dad checked in to the hospital at 11pm the previous night. Over the course of the next twelve hours, Mom was the picture of strength, weathering the storm of each contraction without pain medication. With the help of a midwife named Amy and three different nurses (first Kate, then Natalie and Syra), Mom went from the bed to the birth ball; from the birth ball to the shower; from the shower back to the birth ball; from the birth ball back to the shower; from the shower to the tub; and from the tub back to the bed. Dad was with her every step of the way and woke up the next morning with the sore back to prove it.

As labor progressed and Mom's pain became more intense, Dad reminded her to stay in the present rather than dwelling on the contraction that had just passed or worrying about the one that was right around the corner. Mom responded like a champ, using the time between contractions to rest and to communicate which comfort measures were working and which weren't. By the time Mom was in the tub, word had spread that she was laboring without an epidural. And by the time she was fully dilated, a nursing student, a med student and an on-call OBGYN had all come to the delivery room to watch Mom push.

And what a sight it was. With Dad holding one leg and Natalie holding the other, Amy coached Mom through the last forty minutes of labor. Dad watched in complete awe as Mom summoned all her strength to push, push, push you into this world. First your head appeared, then your face and finally your entire body emerged, slippery, writhing, miraculous.

Amy placed you on Mom's chest while Dad stopped crying just long enough to cut the umbilical cord. Mom and Dad took one look at one another and, after the most amazing night of their lives, decided on something they had known for months:

Your name was Grace Emily.

And you were loved.

Love,
Dad

Moose out front shoulda told ya.

Imagine if, when you were a kid, you woke up on Christmas morning and your parents told you that Santa Claus was running a little behind schedule:

You: "Um... What?"
Your Parents: "Behind schedule."
You: "What does that mean?"
Your Parents: "It means that he'll be here... Just not today."
You: "So, he's coming?"
Your Parents: "Right."
You: "Just not today?"
Your Parents: "Precisely."
You: "So... Tomorrow?"
Your Parents: "Not necessarily."
You: "Come again?"
Your Parents: "You see, he might be here tomorrow, but also maybe not."
You: "What the fuck kind of program are you running here?"

OK, that last line is probably a stretch, but you get my point. Amanda and I were under the impression that our little ball of joy would be arriving on or before the 24th of June. And yet the red-letter date came and went without the proverbial stork paying us a visit.

It's the damndest thing. You spend nine months taking candy out of your own personal advent calendar, and then when you get to the big day, you open the little window and there's a note that says, "Would it be okay if we gave you this last piece of chocolate in like a week? Ten days, tops."

RIP George Carlin

Jerry Seinfeld's take on George Carlin's death:

The honest truth is, for a comedian, even death is just a premise to make jokes about. I know this because I was on the phone with George Carlin nine days ago and we were making some death jokes. We were talking about Tim Russert and Bo Diddley and George said: “I feel safe for a while. There will probably be a break before they come after the next one. I always like to fly on an airline right after they’ve had a crash. It improves your odds.”

I called him to compliment him on his most recent special on HBO. Seventy years old and he cranks out another hour of great new stuff. He was in a hotel room in Las Vegas getting ready for his show. He was a monster.

You could certainly say that George downright invented modern American stand-up comedy in many ways. Every comedian does a little George. I couldn’t even count the number of times I’ve been standing around with some comedians and someone talks about some idea for a joke and another comedian would say, “Carlin does it.” I’ve heard it my whole career: “Carlin does it,” “Carlin already did it,” “Carlin did it eight years ago.”

And he didn’t just “do” it. He worked over an idea like a diamond cutter with facets and angles and refractions of light. He made you sorry you ever thought you wanted to be a comedian. He was like a train hobo with a chicken bone. When he was done there was nothing left for anybody.

But his brilliance fathered dozens of great comedians. I personally never cared about “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television,” or “FM & AM.” To me, everything he did just had this gleaming wonderful precision and originality.

I became obsessed with him in the ’60s. As a kid it seemed like the whole world was funny because of George Carlin. His performing voice, even laced with profanity, always sounded as if he were trying to amuse a child. It was like the naughtiest, most fun grown-up you ever met was reading you a bedtime story.

I know George didn’t believe in heaven or hell. Like death, they were just more comedy premises. And it just makes me even sadder to think that when I reach my own end, whatever tumbling cataclysmic vortex of existence I’m spinning through, in that moment I will still have to think, “Carlin already did it.”

I call shenanigans.

In case you missed it, President Bush got all up in Congress's grill on Wednesday, berating Democrats for not lifting the federal ban on offshore oil and gas drilling. Some choice comments included:

"There is no excuse for delay... Families across the country are looking to Washington for a response... I know the Democratic leaders have opposed some of these policies in the past. Now that their opposition has helped drive gas prices to record levels, I ask them to reconsider their positions."

Bush went on to say that if congressional leaders head home for their July 4 recess without taking action, they will need to explain why "$4 a gallon gasoline is not enough incentive for them to act. And Americans will rightly ask how high gas prices have to rise before the Democratic-controlled Congress will do something about it."

You tell 'em, W. I'm sure the Democrats will get right on that. While they're at it, are there any other long-standing policies that we can lift in an effort to pander to the oil industry? I've never been crazy about habeas corpus. And don't even get me started on eminent domain.

Tiger is better at life than you.

According to David Brooks, who waxes poetic about Tiger Woods in this morning's NY Times, the world's greatest golfer once "tried out four drivers that Nike was experimenting with and told the lab guys that he preferred the heavier one. The researchers thought the clubs were the same weight, but they measured and Woods was right. The club he’d selected was heavier by the equivalent of two cotton balls."

Pretty awesome. Kind of like the latest Nike commercial featuring Tiger and his late father, Earl Woods:

Waiting on the World to Change

Sung to the tune of the ubiquitous John Mayer song:

Me and Amanda
We're kinda freakin' out
We're about to become parents
About that part there's not a doubt

But the thing that remains unknown
The thing that keeps us up at night
Is when this baby will come join us
Whether next week or tonight

So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change
Me and Amanda waiting
Waiting on the world to change

It could be tomorrow morning
Or maybe not until July
So we keep waiting
Waiting on the world to change

"Uh, no, Dad."

I've always thought that the most disturbing aspect of the final sequence of "Teen Wolf" was the guy who frantically zips up his pants after watching Michael J. Fox sink the winning free throws (1:47 mark, upper left corner, dude in red sweater).

Turns out I was wrong.

Check out the embrace that occurs between Scott Howard and his dad as Red Sweater examines his zipper.

Red Wine Makes You Invincible

More good news for wine lovers: The NY Times reports that red wine may be even more potent than previously thought in extending human lifespan. The report is based on a study that involves dosing mice with resveratrol, an ingredient found in some red wines. According to the Times, "Some scientists are already taking resveratrol in capsule form, but others believe it is far too early to take the drug, especially using wine as its source, until there is better data on its safety and effectiveness."


Safety shmafety. Bring on the pills.

Mr. Sparkle Approves

David Sedaris made an appearance on The Daily Show last night to promote his new book, which is awesomely entitled "When You Are Engulfed in Flames." Sedaris claims that the book's title was inspired by a booklet he came across while staying in a Hiroshima hotel. The booklet was (even more awesomely) entitled "Best Knowledge of Disaster Damage Prevention and Favors to Ask of You." As if that title wasn't enough, the booklet contained the following chapters:

1) When You Check In a Hotel
2) When You Find a Fire
3) When You Are Engulfed in Flames

How hysterical is that? I am so buying that book.

And now, for your viewing pleasure (click play and then pause):


via videosift.com

Sample In A Jar

Would it be okay if we talked about urine for a little bit?

I took a drug test for my new job last week. In retrospect, I probably should have refrained from using the bathroom immediately before driving to the Quest Diagnostics office, which is located all of five minutes from my house. Upon arrival, I was handed a plastic cup and instructed to, "Give me all you got." Had this directive been in reference to the effort put forth during the urination process, as opposed to, say, the urine put forth during the urination process, I would have been in great shape.

It wasn't.

Long story short, I received a "QNS" on my first attempt, which apparently stands for Quantity Not Sufficient. I spent the next forty-five minutes pounding water in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting a full bladder and an opportunity to redeem myself.

Guerdon Up My Loins

Amanda and I spent our Friday evening watching ABC's broadcast of the 2008 Scripps National Spelling Bee Championship Finals.
Sameer Mishra, who is not suspected of having used performance-enhancing drugs, took home the trophy by successfully spelling the word "Guerdon" in the 16th and final round. Gotta love Mishra's sense of humor:

Joseph White of the AP wrote that Mishra, who won $40,000 in cash and prizes, was a crowd favorite all the way through the competition: When told one of his words in the semifinals was a dessert, he deadpanned: "That sounds good right now." He rolled his eyes and muttered "wonderful" when told that one of his words had five different language roots. He once asked, "Are you sure there are no alternate pronunciations?"

And now, in an effort to make myself feel better about the fact that I spent my Friday night watching a televised spelling contest, I will enjoy a laugh at this kid's expense:

Primary Colors

I enjoyed this "conversation" in today's NY Times between David Brooks, the conservative all liberals can agree on, and Gail Collins, a columnist for the paper. Here's an excerpt, in which Brooks kicks off the dialogue:

Gail,

I watched “Recount” on HBO the other night and learned a bunch. For example, did you know that Republicans are evil yet efficient, while Democrats are noble but slightly too good for this world? I also learned that Republicans stole the 2000 election from the Democrats even though the media recounts afterwards showed that Bush did indeed win Florida. It’s amazing what you can learn watching HBO.

I mention all this because we’re supposed to be discussing the merits and demerits of the Republican and Democratic primary rules. I think the Republican rules are much better, albeit in an evil and ruthlessly efficient sort of way.

The Republicans like winners and disincentivize losing. Hence the profusion of winner take all primaries. They got a nominee efficiently and cleanly. Wham, bam, thank you Fred.

Each candidate got a chance to be front-runner — Rudy, Fred, Mitt and John — and since the first three weren’t able to sustain the magic, John got to be nominee in short order.

The Democrats, being better people, wanted to make sure everybody gets a prize each primary. After all, it’s unfair for there to be just one nominee. We’re all nominees in our own way.

The Democratic race now threatens to stretch on until 2012. Even the winner can’t really win. If I were working for Obama I’d look at those gigantic losses in West Virginia and Kentucky and I’d sweat bullets. He’s been robbed of all momentum by the silly rules. The holes in his support have been ruthlessly exposed.

It all goes to confirm the old saying that all historical rivalries pit one side that is right but repulsive against another side that is wrong but romantic.

Temporal Anomalies = Headache

Back to the Future makes my head hurt:

"Follow this: let us suppose that Marty is unable to repair the damage he has done; let us further suppose that no one else intervenes to repair this damage. (It would be possible that somehow George and Lorraine would still meet and marry, perhaps after high school, under other circumstances, and Marty would still be born; as unlikely as it seems, it is important to remember that Marty does not have to be the one to fix the timeline, as long as the timeline is repaired.) Now George does not marry Lorraine, and Marty is not born. Since Marty is not born, he does not return in Doc's time machine; and therefore he does not interfere in the meeting of his parents, and therefore he is born, and therefore he does. These two alternate histories would repeat in perpetuity."



My favorite part of the entire movie takes place at the 3:55 mark in the above clip.

There. I said it.

Over the past seven days, I have watched (read: been subjected to) the season finales of America's Next Top Model, Gossip Girl and American Idol.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go do something manly like kill a bear or carve something out of wood:


Oh, wait. That's all wrong.

Fukudome Is My Homie

If you don't feel quite right about merchandise featuring this image being sold outside Wrigley Field, POOCHIE & Co. think you're a hater:

1. POOCHIE
the horry kow!! FUKUDOME IS NOT RAICE THIS T-SHIRT IS FUNNY I FEEL THIS T-SHIRT SHOULD NOT BE BANDED FROM SEELING AROUND THE PARK. I GO TO SOX PARK AND THEY SELL WRIGLEY FIELD'S LARGEST GAY BAR T-SHIRT THERE FOR TWO YEAR'S NOW WHY HAVEN'T THEY BANDED THEM!!!!!!!!!

2. fjdoreza
I am Japanese myserf and I get the joke, and personarry I am not offended by the notion that some Japs can't pronounce the Retter "L" wow that was difficurt to say...It should be however sperrd Whowry cow! Its offensive because it's not very clever and besides we Japanese can pronounce L's when we feel rike it.....

3. POOCHIE
i feel this is funniest t-shirt ever sold that's why it is the hotest shirt sold in wrigly field and every one want's to purches them at any price!!!!!!! so don't be a hatter!!

Did I say POOCHIE & Co. think you're a hater? I meant hatter. Damn spell check.

Huxtable Residence

When I was a senior in college, my roommates and I would amuse ourselves by reading plot synopses for "The Cosby Show" on our TV's digital guide. We just could not get enough of them. If that strikes you as a strange pastime for three young men in the prime of their youths then I am guessing you've never pondered the absurdity of the following episode descriptions:

• Cliff forces the entire family to hold a funeral for Rudy's dead goldfish, Lamont.
• Clair sues a mechanic who performed work on Sondra's car; Rudy does not want to go to the museum; Cliff teaches the kids how to do household chores and also cooks a soup with a cow's tongue.
• Sondra and Elvin break up - again!
• Theo and Cockroach decide to listen to a recording of "Macbeth" instead of reading the play; Cliff picks a snowball fight with the neighborhood children.
• Everybody loses when Vanessa and her friends play a drinking game at an unsupervised get-together.

And who could forget the classic episode entitled, "Cliff Teaches Dan Everything He Needs to Know About Parenting"?

Cooleyhighdorkified

At some point during my impressionable youth, my sister convinced me that it did not make fiscal sense to purchase "single" cassette tapes. In other words, why pay $5 for a gem like "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You" when you can own a masterpiece like the Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves soundtrack for a mere $15? And that, my friends, is how I wound up purchasing the following album:


Good thing I never owned the Boomerang or Bodyguard soundtracks. Because that would be really embarrassing.

White People Make Me Sad

The first two minutes and thirty seconds of this video is worth a peek if either of the following statements apply to you:

1) You're under the impression that West Virginia is a liberal bastion that's progressive in every way.
2) You're looking for definitive evidence that certain Americans should be excluded from the democratic process.



Are you like me? Did your head just explode?

"It's gonna be tight, y'all!"

Several of the broadcast networks announced their fall-season lineups this week. Surprising no one and nauseating all, NBC confirmed that Jimmy Fallon will succeed Conan O'Brien as host of the "Late Show" in mid-2009. After throwing up in my mouth a little upon reading this news, I took solace in the fact that Fox is rolling out a new comedy that revolves around this man:


That's right, kids. Cleveland Brown, the (exceedingly gentle) voice of reason in Quahog, will have his very own show on Fox this fall. I don't use the word "hero" lightly, but I've long considered Cleveland the greatest hero in American history. So, this spinoff comes as welcome news.

Bono Was At Harvard

Seven years ago this month, I graduated from college. Our commencement speaker on that rainy May morning back in 2001 was U.S. Senator John McCain (R-AZ).


According to The Daily Pennsylvanian, the University of Pennsylvania's independent student newspaper:

The assembled crowd went wild when McCain came to the podium, cheering for the senator as he proceeded to entertain the crowd with a self-deprecating address similar to the one given by President Bush at Yale University that same day.

Sounds like a pretty raucous scene, no? The crowd (of hungover 21-year-olds) went wild? Not exactly my recollection, but whatever. It would be interesting to see what sort of reception McCain would receive this year given his present perch atop the Republican ticket. Something tells me he'd have to be pretty damn self-deprecating to elicit cheers from what I'd imagine is an overwhelmingly pro-Obama student body.

Is R. Kelly responsible every time a 14-year-old is micturated upon in this fair city?

I'm not certain whether the R. Kelly trial constitutes news outside of the Chicago metropolitan area, but around here it commands front page headlines and top billing on the nightly news. In case you're not up to speed, Kelly has been indicted on 14 counts of soliciting a minor for child pornography and has retained the gentleman below as his legal counsel:


Now, don't get me wrong - I celebrate R. Kelly's entire catalogue. But when your defense attorney looks like an unholy cross between "the other Jeffrey Lebowski" and the Emperor from Star Wars, I have no choice but to question your innocence.

Baby Fishmouth

In the interest of preparing Koufax for the arrival of our daughter next month, Amanda and I have been walking around our condo with a newborn doll. We have "fed" this thing, changed its clothes and even equipped it with a comically oversized diaper; Koufax has been predictably uninterested in the whole charade:

Curious to see how Koufax would react to me singing to the "baby," I performed Rock-A-Bye Baby over cereal this morning and, for the first time in my life, the beloved nursery rhyme's lyrics struck me as odd:

Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.

So, the baby is seriously injured, right? In a best case scenario? Sweet dreams, little one.

Creating a blog is alarmingly easy

Coming up with content, on the other hand...  Not so much.  That said, I consider myself at least as qualified to be a blogger as Bob Maplethorpe is to be a getaway car driver: