"The first family of Minnesota Blogging" - Mitch Berg, Shot in the Dark

Illuminating fun, faith,
family and foolishness.

“If liberty means anything at all, it means the right
to tell people what they do not want to hear.”

- George Orwell

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Cownter-terrorism
The picture below may look a little unusual, but it's really Tiger Lilly's latest weapon in her ongoing war against the terrorist cows "Cow-spiracy": Tactical Bovine Observation and Neutralization Equipment (T-BONE).



This specially designed vehicle lets Tiger Lilly infiltrate unobserved, eavesdrop on secret plans, unleash a devastating surprise attack and then make a speedy getaway quicker than the cattle can say "Mooove-on.org."

The factory rep brought this over for her to inspect. Channeling Christian Bale in "Batman Begins", and thinking of the ninja cows, Tiger Lilly's response was: "Does it come in black?"

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Tom Lehrer Day

Today is Tom Lehrer's 80th birthday, and yes, he's still alive. I posted a video from him several days ago, but thought I'd celebrate the occasion with another of his classics that has eerily remained relevant more than 40 years after it was written (the text inserted briefly in the middle of the video was not from Lehrer).



Edgy, cynical and more than a little liberal, Lehrer still had a gift for sticking his needle right in your funny bone. Despite his television exposure in the 1960s, he ultimately chose a lower profile in academia. In an interview he once said he would have gone crazy touring and doing the same songs every night. Besides, he said, "Political satire became obsolete when Henry Kissinger was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize."

Happy birthday to one of the greats!

Monday, April 7, 2008

Buddy, you're nutty

The NuttyBuddy — a next-generation upgrade on the athletic cup — is getting somewhat infamous in certain, um, parts of the blogosphere. My friend KingDavid, unpaid and unofficial spokesperson for NuttyBuddy, gave me one of the company's promotional tee-shirts for my birthday last week. While I'll proudly wear the tee-shirt, I don't know that I'd go to the lengths the guy in the video below goes to to demonstrate the efficacy of this new technology.

It's hard to tell what is more disturbing, this clown's (let's call him a "Crush Test Dummy") willingly and repeatedly standing in front of the Nuke LaLoosh of pitching machines, or the constant cackling of the off-screen woman who was feeding the (supposed) baseballs into the machine. Somehow she reminded me of the sound Hillary must have made while coming up with her health care proposals.



One positive thing about this video, however, is that at the end — after taking repeated shots to the gut and thigh and a couple direct hits on the NuttyBuddy — the guy says, "I don't think I'll ever be able to have kids."

On behalf of the gene pool and future generations, I thank him in the name of all humanity.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Wassup? True, true.
Here are a couple of Super Bowl commercials that I missed last week but came across on YouTube. I'm not a big fan of Bud Light, but we do have birds, and these really make me laugh.



Monday, February 4, 2008

The winner(s) in a close one...

Well that was an exciting Super Bowl yesterday though some might say it didn't measure up to other years. Similarly, I thought the Super Bowl commercials were pretty good overall, though some might say this was a down year. As for me, my standards may have been irreversibly lowered after last year; from now on any year that doesn't feature two guys kissing while eating a Snickers bar is at least in for an honorable mention. In fact, I thought this year had a number of solid entries that made it difficult to pick a single best commercial, so I broke them down by category: Those With Animals; Those With Celebrities; Those With Breasts; The Surreal; The Worst and an "Open" category for commercials that didn't easily fall into one of the other categories but made me smile.

Those With Animals
Cute animals are always a good start and are deserving of their own category even though these could easily fall into the "Surreal" niche. For example, the Fedex commercial with the big pigeons for the "heavy stuff". Ok, pigeons bigger than a bus get attention and the creators went just far enough with the gag with the scenes of chaos in the streets. Of course, Fedex isn't in competition with gargantuan carrier pigeons so the strong product benefit message gets kind of lost. I also liked the Sobe "Thrillicious" commercial with the lizards mimicking Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video. Great animation, loaded with little extra bits of business like a mini-fart cloud, but the commercial seemed to suggest that drinking Sobe turns you into a zombie, albeit one with rhythm. Better was the Budweiser Rocky commercial where an aspiring Clydesdale misses the cut to be on the Bud team but is taken under the paw of a Dalmatian coach (personal trainer?) who puts him through grueling exercises and training, turning him into a ripped "Italian Stallion" (they did use the Rocky theme). Somehow, though, I couldn't help wondering if the horse was really on steroids, and if the Dalmatian gave him "the cream" or "the clear" since the Clydesdale's head was nearly as big as Barry Bonds'. That was enough to tip the balance in favor of my favorite animal commercial, the Bridgestone tires "scream" commercial where a squirrel chasing an acorn into the road appears about to meet his maker (or KingDavid), but for the superior handling of the tires. Instead of squealing rubber we heard and saw the animatronic screams of the squirrel, owls, deer, the woman passenger...I don't know, it just moved me.

Those With Celebrities
The only two celebrities I could remember off hand were Justin Timberlake for Pepsi and Will Ferrell for Bud Light. I don't remember too much about either commercial since my mind always tries to block these two guys out when I see them, but I do remember they both seemed to be about "sucking one."

Those With Breasts
I know, I know — it seems as if just about every commercial featured breasts in some way. The ones I selected, however, simply, um, stuck out. The first I'll mention in this category was the CareerBuilder one where the poor working woman drone is so demoralized by her evil boss that her heart leaps out of her chest and through her shirt like a scene from Alien. Ok, it's not really about breasts, but it struck me as a kind of "anti-breast" commentary on all the other commercials that fixate on womens' chests. Or maybe the copywriter just needs a new job. The Victoria's Secret commercial featured legs, breasts and music that I could actually hear because it also induced nearly absolute quiet in my living room filled with 20 people. A very awkward quiet. The best, or most over-the-top, breast commercial was the one with the chubby mechanic on a road call to jump start a woman's car. He puts one end of the cables on her battery, then opens his coverall and attaches the other ends of the cables to his nipples, cues the ginormous sound machine in his truck and with a swig of AMP accomplishes the mission. The best part, however, was the "Do Not Attempt" message that stayed at the bottom of the screen throughout. Ya think?

The Surreal
This is the largest category as it appears advertisers are going farther and farther out there to make their ads to stand out. Sometimes this can be rather dark and even vaguely disturbing, such as the CareerBuilder ad with the Jiminy Cricket-type character being eaten by a spider, the Cars.com ads for extreme "Plan B" car negotiating that suggest having a head-shrinking witch doctor or a hulking wrestler in a circle of fire are acceptable ways of doing business, or the Doritos ad that suggests you shouldn't tease or tempt a six-foot mouse. Bridgestone also appeared in this category when the driver of the car, on a dark, winding road, must suddenly steer around hazards such as a deer, Alice Cooper and Richard Simmons. You could feel the drama as the driver's hands tightened on the wheel as he fought with himself over the urge to run Simmons down. Similarly the E-trade ads with the talking baby/day-trader had a way of arresting your attention in a kind of creepy way. The first ad featured the baby spitting up at the end, which isn't a good idea when your audience is probably stuffing their faces. I was just about ready to write off the second one, where the baby talked about renting a clown with all the extra money he'd made with E-trade, when the kid looked at the clown then back to the audience and nearly took the words out of my mouth when he said, "I really underestimated the creepiness factor."

Then there's the silly-absurd ads like the ones from Bud Light that suggest their beer can give you powers like being able to breathe fire or fly. The one that nearly won this category in my household, however, was the Planter's cashews ad where the ugly woman with the unibrow nevertheless had all the men around her completely smitten — all because she used cashews as perfume. The winner, however, was the commercial for Tide with the poor guy at a job interview (perhaps he got it through CareerBuilder) who is undone and shouted down by a large talking stain on his shirt. This one seemed to get the most and loudest laughs from our group.

"The Worst"
Where to begin? When you think of the amount of money that someone has to spend for a Super Bowl time slot, and then see the misbegotten effort the company puts forth, it strikes me as a bigger abuse of stockholder's/investors money than Enron. It's kind of like sending Travaris Jackson out as your Super Bowl quarterback. Among the worst this year was the Coke commercial featuring James McCarville and Bill Frist. McCarville's face outdoes any clown's in terms of creepiness factor, especially in High Def. Supposedly Coke won a bidding war for his services, topping the folks at Sobe who wanted to use him as one of their dancing lizards. Another flopper that went over with our crowd about as poorly as the announcement that we were out of chicken legs was the Parental Advisory ad with the drug dealer outside the quickie-mart complaining that he couldn't make a living any more because kids were getting all the high they needed from their parents' prescription drugs. Whatever. I kept expecting to see Jay and Silent Bob show up (once Bob got through over on the AMP commercial) to run the guy off their turf. Actually, what it made me want to do was run upstairs and hide the Lipitor — until I realized we don't have any Lipitor. Speaking of drugs, the ad using a magical hand to wave a Zantac over a bloated woman to make her look better was just plain weird and wrong. Besides, I thought making women look better was beer's job.

Another stunningly bad groaner was the Sisyphus ad for the Yukon Hybrid. Please, as if trying to sell people on the utility of a battery-powered half-ton SUV isn't akin to pushing a boulder up a mountain anyway. Another car commercial made it into this category was for Audi, which was too bad because I kind of had high hopes for it at the beginning as they set up the scene like the infamous horse-head in the bed scene from The Godfather. Ultimately, what a waste of a premise as the "execution" left the commercial completely flat, almost as if the creative team's heads had been cut off before the commercial was finished. Then there was the numbingly bad, even paralyzing, Gatorade commercial where a large dog drank loudly and messily from a water dish. That had a very high flinch factor as you kept wondering what it was about, and if you really even wanted to know. I remember feeling the same way watching Eraserhead 30 years ago, waiting for some pay-off or explanation. Then, and now, there wasn't any.

But to get to the worst, however, you've got to have Go Daddy and Sales Genie slugging it out for a nice, dark wet spot at the bottom of the barrel. It truly galls me that I'm stuck with Go Daddy for my domain name following last year's RegisterFly melt-down. There's no effort to promote the benefits of their product (whatever it is), no offer to meet a need (except perhaps the most puerile), no product comparison. The ads aren't even really saying "Look at me!" as they seem to be much more about looking at something else. At least the commercials inspire some emotion, even if it's negative. The Sales Genie ads, however, are truly a waste of time and brain cells as I believe the animation, colors and dialog actually kill brains cells. With genius like this behind the company you really have to wonder how it ever became successful enough to make enough money to buy a Super Bowl ad, let alone two. Any future year without a Go Daddy or Sales Genie ad will automatically qualify as a "good" year for Super Bowl advertising.

Finally, there were some ads I liked that didn't fit in any category other than they made me smile. The first ad, for Diet Pepsi Max almost fell into the "worst" category, however. First off, I can't stand Joe Buck, so seeing him almost ruined it right off the bat except that he happened to be nodding off, which is what I do when I see/hear him so that was kind of funny. There were some other great clips in the ad of people nodding off before being revived with the product and going into a take-off of the old Saturday Night Live Night At the Roxbury skit. The commercial flirted with danger again as this skit is one of the most annoying skits in SNL history. Just as it was really starting to get on my nerves, however, the commercial ended with a guy snapping "Stop it!" to a couple of bobbing bimbos.

I also really liked the Bud Light ad with the guys being roped into a wine and cheese party with their girlfriends. What I like about these types of ads, while they focus on the guys' obsession with beer, is that they at least portray the lads as being clever in the way they go about smuggling the beer into the party disguised as a block of cheese or a long baguette, or the way a TV is hidden in a box of Chablis. The clincher, though, was the pay-off line at the end where one the guys leaves the party "On a cheese run," ranking right up there in my mind with "And a chain saw!" from last year's Bud Light Super Bowl ad.

The warmest ad of the evening, however, was from Coke as it featured large cartoon character parade balloons of Underdog and Stewie from Family Guy breaking loose and competing with each other in slow balloon motion over an inflated bottle of Coke. It was funny, but especially satisfying when at the last moment a Charlie Brown balloon rose up out of nowhere to snag the prize. Yay! Charlie Brown finally wins!

By the way, if you missed any of these commercials, or want to see them again (even the bad ones) you can find a collection of all the ads from yesterday's game in one place here.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

May the road rise up to slap you

Mitch mentioned today that Captain Ed has been learning to speak Gaelic. I'd like to try that sometime as well. It would be handy if I ever do move to Scotland. Besides that, it would give me new and interesting ways to curse Nick Coleman, perhaps even in a way he'd understand.

Of course, if all you're interested in is cursing, the Internet was invented just for you. Go to The Curse Engine (An tInneal Mallachtaí) to find a handy tool that lets you create your own colorful curses in Gaelic, complete with a Gaelic/English translation and a handy pronunciation guide. You choose an option from three different columns, click on the "Mallacht" button, and then "Lay on, MacDuff."

For example:

Gaelic: Go dtachta na péisteoga do thóin bheagmhaitheasach. (guh DAHKH-tuh nuh PAYSH-choh-guh duh HOH-ihn VYUG-wah-huh-suhkh.)
English: May the worms choke your worthless butt.

Gaelic: Go stróice cúnna ifrinn do chuid fo-éadaigh. (guh STROH-kyuh KOO-nuh IHF-rin duh khwihj FO-AY-dee).
English: May the hounds of Hell tear your underwear.

Gaelic: Go gcreime na gráinneoga cealgrúnacha do dhiosca crua.(guh GREH-muh nuh GRAWN-yoh-guh KYA-luhg-roo-nuh-khuh duh)
English: May the malevolent hedgehogs gnaw at your hard disk.

Gaelic: Go salaí an Cat Mara do chuid calóga arbhair. (guh SAH-lee uhn KAHT MAH-ruh duh khwihj KAH-lo-guh AH-ruh-wir).
English: May the Sea Cat soil your cornflakes.

Gaelic: Go n-aora scata Fomhórach ólta do chuid gruaige. (guh NEE-ruh SKAH-tuh FO-wohr-ukh OLE-tuh duh khwihj GROO-ihg-yuh.)
English: May a pack of drunken Fomorians satirize your hair.

I know you're just dying to try it yourself, so I won't delay you further. I did find it interesting, however, that the Gaelic word you click on to process the curse is "mallacht". It reminds me of the Shakespearean word "mallecho", which means "mischief". It seems rather appropriate, that.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

So dangerous you have to sign a waiver...
I heard Randy Moss's local lawyer on KFAN last night and this morning describing the incident that led to a woman hurting her finger and then asking for $500,000 from Moss or she'd go public. According to the lawyer, Moss was at the woman's house last weekend to watch a playoff game and after the game there was some "consensual horseplay" that led to the injured finger. There was no description of the finger injury.

Let's see...playoff game, minor injury, $500,000. Okay, I'm getting a little nervous.

If a finger is worth $500,000, what might Ben demand after jumping up and hitting his head on my basement ceiling during last week's Packer game?

(Bonus points for anyone - other than my kids - who knows what song that headline came from.)

Sunday, January 13, 2008

The difference between men and women: #436
Saturday the Mall Diva released Ben from her clutches so he and I could do some male bonding while watching the Packers play-off game. We were watching the game in the basement (where the snowy field and green and gold uniforms were beautiful in HD) when Ryan Grant broke off a long run toward the Seahawks' goal-line.

Packer-fan Ben leapt off his couch in such great excitement that he struck his head on the low ceiling, dealing himself a near-stunning blow.

Upstairs the Diva and her mother heard the startling and devastating crack and wondered out loud and with some concern if something catastrophic had happened. They listened intently for what might come next.

"Must not be anything too bad," Mall Diva said. "Dad's laughing his butt off."

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Life lessons for teenagers
1. Don't tug on Superman's cape.

2. Don't spit into the wind.

3. Don't post pictures of yourself participating in illegal activities on Facebook.

The children are upset because Eden Prairie High School is disciplining them for breaking school rules about drinking by suspending several students from athletic teams or extra-curricular activities (presumably not drinking related). "Unfair!" they say as they stalk to their corners (or stage a walk-out).

For educational purposes, let's examine this logic. The students and their parents sign agreements not to drink alcohol while participating in school events (or presumably while eligible to participate), such as sports. The student breaks that pledge and the school finds out through photographic evidence. What part of basic cause and effect did you not learn in class? The school is enforcing its rules, and you should hope that the State of Minnesota doesn't try to enforce it's rules (called "laws", btw) as well since underage drinking is, like, you know, illegal.

And no, my darlings, this isn't a violation of privacy or free speech. First, if you put something in a public place or space, it's not private. Second, while your posting of it is speech, the punishment isn't because you posted, per se, but because the pictures were of you doing something that broke your word, the rules and the law.

This lesson is over. Now, get back to class because I don't think you can afford to miss many more.


Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Gimme some water
I'm kind of in a rambling mood tonight, thinking random thoughts. Such as...

I handed a friend of mine a bottle of water the other day. "Ah, bottled water," he said with a smile. "The biggest scam next to carbon credits!"

"That's got to be a pretty big scam, then," I said, "compared to carbon credits."

"Yeah," he said, "we should go into business selling 'food credits' using the same principle. We'd make a killing."

"Sure," I replied, "especially at this time of the year with the holidays coming on. Here's how we'd pitch it: 'Feeling bad because you know you're going to overeat this Christmas? No problem! We've got thousands of people lined up in the third world who have agreed to fast while you pig out! Buy your food credits now in plenty of time for the holidays! They also make great stocking stuffers!'

"In fact," I said, "we could call the holiday version of food credits 'Stocking Stuffers' and package them in a festive box. Then we could get some guy who has a 2500 square foot walk-in freezer to be our spokesperson. We'd make a fortune and have a shot and picking up a prestigious award!"

We went on to talk about other things, but my thoughts later returned to bottled water, a product I use on nearly a daily basis. Most days I bring a bottle from home to drink with my lunch, mainly because the bottles of pop I used to drink have started to be too sweet-tasting to me. I got in the habit of buying a bottle of Aquafina from the company cafeteria instead of Coke or Pepsi, picking up a packet of lemon juice from the condiment stand on the way out, and mixing that into the bottle. Then one day — file this under Things That Make You Go "Hmmmm" — I noticed that a 20-ounce bottle of Aquafina retails for $1.35 in our cafeteria. While it's cool and clear, there's not a lot of value added there to the basic ingredients. Meanwhile, the bottle of pop right next to it featuring water, syrup, sugar, that satisfying fizz and millions of dollars worth of brand-building advertising, goes for just $1.25.

Since then we've bought more generic waters from Cub or Sam's Club in bulk (about .40/bottle) and I pack one of those (and still snatch the pack of lemon juice).

I know, America is supposed to have the safest drinking water in the world, and buying bottled water is supposed to be bad for the environment, but I'm hooked. For one thing, the water from the taps or drinking fountain where I work has a hideous, metallic taste to it. Secondly, it's so darn convenient. It's easy to pack a bottle or three along on car trips or to outdoor activities. Besides, you never know when drought is going to break out.

I'm not snobbish about it. For example, I never cared for Perrier, and the carbonated or "sparkling" waters don't quench my thirst as well. Funky store brand water is generally fine, though I appreciate the consistent quality of Aquafina and I like to mix things up with an Aquafina Flavorsplash from time to time (grape - yum!) One brand I cannot abide, however, is Dasani, which tastes as if it was harvested from a puddle on an asphalt driveway after an August storm. I don't know what you can do to mess up the taste of water, but Dasani did it. I mean, it's probably not as bad as the water my wife drank while on our honeymoon in Puerto Vallarta, but it tastes like it could be (and I saw what happened to her).

Overall, staying hydrated is a good thing. I remember football practices when I was a kid where the coaches wouldn't let us drink because we had to "toughen up". Things have changed a lot. I also used to be a cola-fiend, probably as a result of my deprived childhood. There were three of us kids, and soda pop was an uncommon treat (even though my Dad's business had vending machines and he could get the pop wholesale). My parents used to make the three of us share a 12 oz. can. I felt so grown-up when I started working and could drop my quarter in the machine and get a whole, blessed can all to myself! Later, the cans changed to 16 oz, and then 20 oz. bottles — bring it on! And then —Sweet Juices on the Half-Shell — 2-liter bottles! Oh, my, those single days when I could keep a 2-liter bottle in the refrigerator, reach in, twist the cap off and drink right out of the bottle before putting it back! Hah!

Sometimes, even now, when we have a 2-liter bottle in the fridge, I reach in, pull it out, twist annnnd ... look wistfully at the bottle before reaching for a glass (that sound you might have just heard was Tiger Lilly throwing up a little in her mouth at the picture that came into her head). For some reason, the Mall Diva never cared for pop, even though she's part of a generation that practically grew up with a Nuk stretched over a bottle of Mountain Dew. Myself, I used to get some real cola-cravings, but even those have diminished as the taste generally seems too hard and bubbly to me now.

Oh well, I've rambled enough, but I think it's only fitting to cement the ear-worm into your head that's probably been running through the back of your mind since you read the headline.

Monday, November 26, 2007

"Their Way" on the highway
We all piled into the car last week for the long drive to grandmother's house for the holiday. Along the way we listened to a lot of the Mall Diva's CD collection and a couple of my "oldies". On one of the old CDs was a family favorite we'd almost forgotten, a parody of Sinatra's "My Way" song, set in academia and entitled, "Their Way" (the Diva really likes Sinatra, by the way).

The song was done by a group called Bright Morning Star and is very funny, perhaps because it's so close to reality (which makes it scary, too). Here are the lyrics; again, to the tune of "My Way":

I came, I bought the books, lived in the dorms, followed directions.
I worked, I studied hard, made lots of friends who had connections.
I crammed, they gave me grades — and may I say not in a fair way.
But more, much more than this, I did it Their Way.

I learned so many things even though I'll never use them.
The courses that I took were all required — I didn't choose them.
You'll find that to survive it's best to play the doctrinaire way
And so I knuckled down and did it Their Way.

Yes, there were times I wondered why I had to cringe when I could fly.
I had my doubts, but after all I clipped my wings and learned to crawl.
I learned to bend, and in the end I did it Their Way.

And now, my fine young friends, now that I am a full professor,
Where once I was oppressed, now I become the cruel oppressor.
With me you'll learn to cope, you'll learn to climb life's golden stairway.
But like me, you'll see the light and do it Their Way.

For what is a man? What can I do? Open your books — read chapter two!
And if it seems a bit routine, don't talk to me — go see the Dean.
They get their way, I get my pay... We do it Their Way!

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Happy birthday, P.J.
Today's the birthday of one of my favorite writers, P.J. O'Rourke (1947). I've been reading him ever since I graduated from Mad Magazine to The National Lampoon, and followed his work in books with hard covers such as Republican Party Reptile, All the Trouble in the World: The Lighter Side of Famine, Pestilence, Destruction and Death, and Eat the Rich. He's the kind of writer I'd like to be when I grow up, even though there's little evidence that he's done so.

Whenever I've found a particularly funny or trenchant sentence or two I've thrown it into a file for future reference. In honor of P.J.'s birthday, here are a few of them:


  • When a thing defies physical law, there’s usually politics involved.


  • Everybody wants to save the earth; nobody wants to help Mom do the dishes.


  • The forces of safety are afoot in the land. I, for one, believe it is a conspiracy - a conspiracy of Safety Nazis shouting “Sieg Health” and seeking to trammel freedom, liberty, and large noisy parties. The Safety Nazis advocate gun control, vigorous exercise, and health foods. The result can only be a disarmed, exhausted, and half-starved population ready to acquiesce to dictatorship of some kind.


  • Sloths move at the speed of congressional debate but with greater deliberation and less noise.


  • If you think healthcare is expensive now, just wait until it’s free.


  • Bureaucrats want bigger bureaus. Special interests are interested in whatever’s special to them. These two groups bring great pressure to bear upon politicians who have another agenda yet: to cater to the temporary whims and fads of the public and the press.


  • Neither conservatives nor humorists believe man is good. But left-wingers do.


  • A little Government and a little luck are necessary in life; but only a fool trusts either of them.


  • Something is happening to America, not something dangerous but something all too safe. I see it in my lifelong friends. I am a child of the "baby boom", a generation not known for its sane or cautious approach to things. Yet suddenly my peers are giving up drinking, giving up smoking, cutting down on coffee, sugar, and salt. They will not eat red meat and go now to restaurants whose menus have caused me to stand on a chair yelling, "Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, dinner is served!" This from the generation of LSD, Weather Underground, and Altamont Rock Festival! And all in the name of safety! Our nation has withstood many divisions - North and South, black and white, labor and management - but I do not know if the country can survive division into smoking and non-smoking sections.


  • Earnestness is just stupidity sent to college.


  • To grasp the true meaning of socialism, imagine a world where everything is designed by the post office, even the sleaze.


  • The Republicans are the party that says government doesn't work and then gets elected and proves it.


  • Politics is the business of getting power and privilege without possessing merit. A politician is anyone who asks individuals to surrender part of their liberty - their power and privilege - to State, Masses, Mankind, Planet Earth, or whatever. This state, those masses, that mankind, and the planet will then be run by ... politicians.


  • People with a mission to save the earth want the earth to seem worse than it is so their mission will look more important.


  • When a private entity does not produce the desired results, it is (certain body parts excepted) done away with. But a public entity gets bigger.




Thursday, July 26, 2007

Tonight on ESPN
I have this picture in my mind of Barry Bonds frantically peddling a racing bike through the French Alps as he's chased by pit bulls, all while an NBA referee uses his cellphone to check the scores before deciding whether to call traveling or not.

There are so many crash and burns going on in sports right now you'd have to be a NASCAR fan to keep track of them all. This year in the Tour De France the yellow jersey isn't given to the leader, but to the guy who collects the urine samples.

At least there the teams have the decency to shove their disgraced cheaters over a cliff. In San Francisco Giants fans embrace Barry Bonds — or they would if they could get their arms around head, that is. I've had my differences with MLB Commissioner Selig over the years (though I thought his son-in-law was a real nice guy when he was with the Twins and I worked for the Sports Commission), but I give Bud credit for not wanting to be anywhere near the stadium when Bonds breaks the record.

The only reason I would go would be for the chance to catch the record-breaking ball — so I could call a press conference the next day, use a big ol' hypodermic needle to inject the ball with gasoline and then set it on fire. (Sure, I'd miss out on a lot of money, but on the plus side I'd never have to buy myself a drink for the rest of my life). I know, you can't "prove" that Bonds is a juicer (though his post-career endorsement options may be limited to Hamilton Beach and the Waring Company) but who are you going to believe — Barry, or your own lying eyes?

I remember 30-some years ago when Hank Aaron was closing in on Babe Ruth's record and how much hate mail he received from folks who didn't like the idea of a black man breaking the mark. Those fears seem even more ridiculous today when a cheater is about to do it.

As for Michael Vick, I have no doubt the Feds put a lot of heat on his lower-level associates in order to bag him and I think he's (justifiably) in serious trouble and in for serious jail-time...unless he now becomes the key to blowing the whole dog-fighting sub-culture in professional sports wide open by naming names. Somehow I just don't think he's the only young athlete with a lot of time and money on his hands and a taste for violence and gambling. I remember an article in Sports Illustrated a couple of years ago that focused on how a number of NFL players loved raising pitbulls. It was all positive on how much they loved these dogs, but now you've got to wonder.

If there's anyone who's got to be sweating about tips of icebergs, however, it's Daniel Stern and the NBA. In a game who's rules have always seemed rather whimsically officiated, the reactions I've seen to the fact that a referee will be indicted for fixing games has been less, "You stink!" and more, "Ya think?" No worries, though, Mr. Stern; Pro Wrestling is still packing them in and they've got the trifecta: steroids, mad dogs and pre-determined outcomes!

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Pull the plug, pull the plug, Buddy gonna shut you down...
Not too many people were shocked when Al Gore III was pulled over last week for speeding, drug possession and having a trunkload of counterfeit carbon credits. What was surprising was that he was clocked at more than 100 mph in a Prius! I'm not a motor-head like Jroosh, but that's a speed I thought was approachable only if the car were dropped very high from a crane at the Sturgis Bike Rally.

Obviously there are a lot of easy jokes that can be (and were) made. I appreciate it when someone works a little harder for the humor, which is why I especially liked Nancy's musical treatment at Away With Words:

I feel a song coming on (in the spirit of the Beachboys, the Daytonas, and Jan and Dean):

Hybrid Synergy Racin' Machine

I was cruisin' downtown in my Toyota Prius
- Cruise, little Prius! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Doing 50 mpg, just like they guarantee us.
- Conserve, little Prius! Whoosh! Whoosh!
When a big bad Hummer came up alongside
Said, "Hey, Granola--ready to ride?"

I said, I know what you're thinking--I'm an herbal-tea wuss.
- Rev, little Prius! Shush! Shush!
And I'll never catch up in my Toyota Prius
- Glide, little Prius! Shush! Shush!
Yeah, my engine is silent--but it's deadly, too
So buckle up, baby, 'cause I'm gunnin' for you.

Girl's voice: "No, Al! No, Al! No, Al! Nooooooo!"

[refrain]
Well, I run on electric and I run on gas
Ain't nobody here gonna kick my ass.
Prius is green--yeah!--but Prius is mean,
It's a hybrid synergy racin' machine.

I push-button-started and began to roll
- Go, little Prius! Zip! Zip!
Passed the Hummer, a Porsche, and the Highway Patrol.
- Fight, little Prius! Zip! Zip!
I was doin' a hundred on the southbound 5
Lost the Hummer on a curve, more dead than alive.

[refrain]
Well, I run on electric and I run on gas
Ain't nobody here gonna kick my ass!
Prius is green--yeah!--but Prius is mean,
It's a hybrid synergy racin' machine.

Whoa - talk about your little juiced coupe! I wonder if there's any coming back from Dead Man's Surge? Oh well, I guess Al III will have fun, fun, fun 'til Daddy takes the Prius away!

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Feeling squirrelly
I may be a week or so away from resuming regular posting. A recent commenter, however, suggested posting pictures of squirrels because "Squirrels are funny." Others think they are a terrorist menace.

Watch the video below and decide for yourself: documentary or propaganda?



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Thursday, May 10, 2007

My kind of folks
Buffy brings the beau home


Girl brings home suitor. Father tries to frighten suitor. For real or for jest. With harsh words. An intimidating stare.

Pa used arms the size of tree trunks and a highly arched brow. A friend’s dad employed over the counter drug tests. “Here. Pee in the cup.” The old codgers from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers used guns. Lined up the boys and whipped out the rifles.

Mine used dynamite.

T was the first and last guy I ever brought home to meet the family. I was 25. We’d been together for two years and it was his first visit to Appalachia. I should have been shocked by it all. I wasn’t. Not that I expected my father and his pack of dark-eyed brothers to blow up the mountain, close down the only road out and block any chance of escape for a good portion of the day. But I didn’t not expect it either.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Eye-opener
For my wife's last birthday someone gave her a large coffee-mug printed with a collection of insults from Shakespeare — barbs from the bard, if you will. These colorful jibes are epically epithetical. Some examples:

  • beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave

  • quintessence of dust

  • canker-blossom

  • poisonous bunch-back'd toad

  • a fusty nut with no kernel

  • clod of wayward marl

  • roast-meat for worms

  • infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker

  • anointed sovereign of sighs and groans

  • foot-licker

  • lump of foul deformity

  • highly fed and lowly taught

  • all eyes and no sight

  • all the infections the sun sucks up

  • elvish-mark'd abortive, rooting hog

  • veriest varlet that ever chewed with a tooth

  • mountain of mad flesh

  • light of brain

  • bolting-hutch of beastliness

  • not so much brain as ear-wax

  • long-tongu'd babbling gossip

  • thou are a boil, a plague sore

  • I do desire that we may be better strangers


As I said, the mug was given to her. Yet she serves me my coffee in it. Methinks she's trying to tell me something.