I think this may be the most irritating campaign ad I have ever seen:
In other news, a guy I once knew in college is now on trial for stalking Uma Thurman. Not a move I would have predicted he'd make.
My car died going over the Altamont Pass yesterday, so that was terrifying.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Lowering the Temperature A Bit
I have deleted my overly-vituperative reply to Western Swing's comments in the post below because I have learned Western Swing's identity, and its a person for whom I feel some affection and good will. I have on decent authority that WS no longer goes to Jimmy's to hate on Bafflerites. So, welcome to St. Scobie's. I still don't totally grok your arguments, but that's been true for, what, 15 years now?
Monday, April 21, 2008
Let's Summarize
I've got a doubter down in the comments below. So let's see how often Obama has been linked to Tom Frank's What's the Matter With Kansas?, shall we?
There's Marc Ambinder, Protein Wisdom, The American Prospect, and that's definitely Dan Schnur making a clucking sound over at the New York Times. Oh, and Slate in a column literally called Chatterbox (which sounds a lot like a place where clucking happens) has the headline Thomas Frank Speaks. Which is a little over-the-top for a title, and admittedly after the fact of Tom's own WSJ column. But it certainly suggests that Slate's been waiting for Tom to weigh in on the matter over which so much pundit sweat has been shed. (As an aside, does Tom distill the sweat of these pundits for his own men's fragrance line?)
Anyway, it only does take a Google search, Western Swing, to determine that the chattering classes have been linking Obama's remarks to Frank's book.
There's Marc Ambinder, Protein Wisdom, The American Prospect, and that's definitely Dan Schnur making a clucking sound over at the New York Times. Oh, and Slate in a column literally called Chatterbox (which sounds a lot like a place where clucking happens) has the headline Thomas Frank Speaks. Which is a little over-the-top for a title, and admittedly after the fact of Tom's own WSJ column. But it certainly suggests that Slate's been waiting for Tom to weigh in on the matter over which so much pundit sweat has been shed. (As an aside, does Tom distill the sweat of these pundits for his own men's fragrance line?)
Anyway, it only does take a Google search, Western Swing, to determine that the chattering classes have been linking Obama's remarks to Frank's book.
Grab Bag
First of, Tom Frank has a good op-ed in the WSJ today. TF will be a regular columnist at that occasionally esteemed media outlet.
In head-scratching news, I went into the kitchen in the office today and there were 4 giant fennel bulbs and two wilted heads of lettuce on the table. Who really knows what is going on here.
In head-scratching news, I went into the kitchen in the office today and there were 4 giant fennel bulbs and two wilted heads of lettuce on the table. Who really knows what is going on here.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Today's Events
Today, Mr. Scob and I are mock-deposing journalism students for a Journalism and Legal Ethics class. Yeah, they really teach it. Hard to believe, huh? It will be fun to see B in deposition action and vice versa, no doubt.
That's really all that's happening today.
For a giggle, check out Younger Than McCain.
That's really all that's happening today.
For a giggle, check out Younger Than McCain.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Dispatches From the Frontlines of the Acapella War
In a courtroom near you, drama is unfolding about the steamy underbelly of San Francisco's a capella gangs. The Chronicle reports that last year's New Year's melee between Yale males and Sacred Heart thugs was sparked by a stolen . . . kiss. And a can of beer.
Classic stuff really. Who among us has not been in a brawl over these archetypical prizes of young manhood?
So then why the hell does this get several inches of coverage in a major American newspaper?
Would that all the Chron had to cover was Do you wanna take this outside? 3 O'Clock High b-s. I cannot believe what passes for news in this country.
Classic stuff really. Who among us has not been in a brawl over these archetypical prizes of young manhood?
So then why the hell does this get several inches of coverage in a major American newspaper?
Would that all the Chron had to cover was Do you wanna take this outside? 3 O'Clock High b-s. I cannot believe what passes for news in this country.
*500* It Seems Fitting
It seems so right that a landmark post like number five-hundred would be about nothing much at all, and The Wire.
Here's an interview with David Simon where he talks about a few story arcs he left out of the last episode. I only point it out to note that Mr. Scobie said early in Season 4 that Cheese was probably Randy's father. I am glad that we were spared learning more about that.
Also, there's news floating out there that Joe Lieberman is going to pull a Zell Miller and speak at the Republican National Convention. Some say that this will help McCain with independents and moderates, who are looking to see if McCain can really "cross the aisle". I think the pundits and the Republicans have their heads up their butts if they think anyone gives a sh** what Lieberman has to say.
Here's an interview with David Simon where he talks about a few story arcs he left out of the last episode. I only point it out to note that Mr. Scobie said early in Season 4 that Cheese was probably Randy's father. I am glad that we were spared learning more about that.
Also, there's news floating out there that Joe Lieberman is going to pull a Zell Miller and speak at the Republican National Convention. Some say that this will help McCain with independents and moderates, who are looking to see if McCain can really "cross the aisle". I think the pundits and the Republicans have their heads up their butts if they think anyone gives a sh** what Lieberman has to say.
499 - If I Can't Make It In Politics
I have an idea for a comedy sketch, and I don't want any of you stealing it and passing it off as your own.
Imagine the hills of Montana in the dawn light. A woman on a horse with a cigarette in her mouth and a Golden Retriever at the feet of the horse is gazing into the distance in the mid-ground of the shot. The title appears: "The Whisperer Whisperer". The woman rides her horse back to her ranch, where a pick-up truck is pulling up and stops quickly. A short man jumps out; he's followed by a German Shepherd, who abruptly falls to the ground in a slouch.
Man: "I've lost it! (sobs) He won't listen to me. He just goes slack. No sitting, no fetching, no rolling over. We have to shoot a special on training police dogs in an hour and he won't even sniff a lady dog!"
The woman dismounts, puts her hand on the man's shoulder, and leans toward him. She says something inaudible in his ear, and the man's head drops. He nods. He puts his hand on hers, says, "Thank you, Caitlin." A tear drops from his eye. He wipes it away, snaps his finger at the door, growls something in German. The dog sits up, cocks his head and jumps in the truck. The man follows without saying goodbye, and you see them drive off with the dog sitting proudly in the front seat looking at the window.
The woman shakes her head. She throws her reins over the saddle, but before she can lead the horse into the barn, Robert Redford drives up. He unleashes a tirade about the Sundance Festival, sell-outs, bad botox. The woman looks confused, then nods. She looks off toward the mountains, and gives Redford a cigarette. He calms, and waits. She leans into his car, puts her finger under his chin, looks in his eyes, and says, "You know what needs to be done". Redford squints, and says, "Yeah, I do." With a deep inhale, he thanks her and goes.
Credits rolls and then "Next on: The Whisperer Whisperer"
Cut to her sitting on her porch, when a man in a lab coat drives up. It's the Baby Whisperer. They'd had a falling out years ago; she can't believe he's come back. He strides over and hands her a medical file as though he came all the time. She brushes away his pride with a glance. He drops his head. She thumbs through the folder and says, "This is no different from the kid back in 1991. You got through that; you'll get through this without me."
"No I can't," the doctor says, "this one is, well . . . It's his parents. They're beyond me." She nods, lights a cigarette.
"Consider this," she says, leaning forward in her seat towards him. They put their heads together and the man nods slowly several times. Fade out.
Imagine the hills of Montana in the dawn light. A woman on a horse with a cigarette in her mouth and a Golden Retriever at the feet of the horse is gazing into the distance in the mid-ground of the shot. The title appears: "The Whisperer Whisperer". The woman rides her horse back to her ranch, where a pick-up truck is pulling up and stops quickly. A short man jumps out; he's followed by a German Shepherd, who abruptly falls to the ground in a slouch.
Man: "I've lost it! (sobs) He won't listen to me. He just goes slack. No sitting, no fetching, no rolling over. We have to shoot a special on training police dogs in an hour and he won't even sniff a lady dog!"
The woman dismounts, puts her hand on the man's shoulder, and leans toward him. She says something inaudible in his ear, and the man's head drops. He nods. He puts his hand on hers, says, "Thank you, Caitlin." A tear drops from his eye. He wipes it away, snaps his finger at the door, growls something in German. The dog sits up, cocks his head and jumps in the truck. The man follows without saying goodbye, and you see them drive off with the dog sitting proudly in the front seat looking at the window.
The woman shakes her head. She throws her reins over the saddle, but before she can lead the horse into the barn, Robert Redford drives up. He unleashes a tirade about the Sundance Festival, sell-outs, bad botox. The woman looks confused, then nods. She looks off toward the mountains, and gives Redford a cigarette. He calms, and waits. She leans into his car, puts her finger under his chin, looks in his eyes, and says, "You know what needs to be done". Redford squints, and says, "Yeah, I do." With a deep inhale, he thanks her and goes.
Credits rolls and then "Next on: The Whisperer Whisperer"
Cut to her sitting on her porch, when a man in a lab coat drives up. It's the Baby Whisperer. They'd had a falling out years ago; she can't believe he's come back. He strides over and hands her a medical file as though he came all the time. She brushes away his pride with a glance. He drops his head. She thumbs through the folder and says, "This is no different from the kid back in 1991. You got through that; you'll get through this without me."
"No I can't," the doctor says, "this one is, well . . . It's his parents. They're beyond me." She nods, lights a cigarette.
"Consider this," she says, leaning forward in her seat towards him. They put their heads together and the man nods slowly several times. Fade out.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Post 498 - Wierd Politics Edition
Here are some wierd things that have happened as a result of getting involved directly in politics:
1. I was friended on Facebook by California Secretary of State Debra Bowen, who seems to actually update her own profile on a fairly regular basis. I think its probably her because there's a lot of stuff about her gardening hobby, and also her thoughts on new voter registration forms.
2. My efforts to use the hometown, labor-friendly bank for my campaign account are making me long for the pleasures of impersonal online banking with a multinational corporation. It takes so damn long to do everything when there is (1) only one branch, (2) no ATMs, (3) no debit cards and (4) an online interface that only offers your balance. I actually had to get my online password by emailing a woman named Lori. Its killing me over here.
3. I've learned that everything is political. And that you can't be thin-skinned or else you will die of the paranoia.
1. I was friended on Facebook by California Secretary of State Debra Bowen, who seems to actually update her own profile on a fairly regular basis. I think its probably her because there's a lot of stuff about her gardening hobby, and also her thoughts on new voter registration forms.
2. My efforts to use the hometown, labor-friendly bank for my campaign account are making me long for the pleasures of impersonal online banking with a multinational corporation. It takes so damn long to do everything when there is (1) only one branch, (2) no ATMs, (3) no debit cards and (4) an online interface that only offers your balance. I actually had to get my online password by emailing a woman named Lori. Its killing me over here.
3. I've learned that everything is political. And that you can't be thin-skinned or else you will die of the paranoia.
Countdown (up?) to 500
This is my 497th blog post. I have a couple of things to write about, and I was tempted to do one post per thought to hit 5 hondo today, but I think it should come more naturally than that.
Hunter has a good essay at DailyKos about the stoopid media coverage of the Campaign for First Buddy. You may recall that I ranted many months ago about how annoying I found Clinton's push to become the Girlfriend in Chief. Obviously, she went with Grizzled Political Combat Veteran instead, but it ain't working out so well. I wonder what could have been, if she'd just gone shoe shopping with every woman in America instead . . .
Does anyone know if there is any danger to being addicted to milk? Because both of my kids are each drinking a ton of milk these days. At all hours, they wake to yell "milk!" or "baa-baa!", depending on their linguistic skill level. I fear that calcium tablets will form in their stomachs, obstructing the way for food.
I am so busy that I can't really even get anything done. That may bode well for the blog. We'll see.
Hunter has a good essay at DailyKos about the stoopid media coverage of the Campaign for First Buddy. You may recall that I ranted many months ago about how annoying I found Clinton's push to become the Girlfriend in Chief. Obviously, she went with Grizzled Political Combat Veteran instead, but it ain't working out so well. I wonder what could have been, if she'd just gone shoe shopping with every woman in America instead . . .
Does anyone know if there is any danger to being addicted to milk? Because both of my kids are each drinking a ton of milk these days. At all hours, they wake to yell "milk!" or "baa-baa!", depending on their linguistic skill level. I fear that calcium tablets will form in their stomachs, obstructing the way for food.
I am so busy that I can't really even get anything done. That may bode well for the blog. We'll see.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Drinking the Kool-Aid
Today was the day when Democrats could elect delegates to the Democratic National Convention. I was on the ballot in the 9th Congressional District (Barbara Lee Speaks for Me!) along with 100 other people, for 4 delegate spots and 1 alternate spot. The odds are not good that I won. Still, it was a really fun and inspiring time. The caucus was held at a black church at 39th and Telegraph (Hillary's was held at Mills College), and there were literally thousands of people there to vote. The line snaked through the church parking lot and down the street for a block for over an hour. I don't even know how many people left because they were overwhelmed by the turnout. But the people who stayed were in a great mood, just talking and being hot and sweaty. Most people were willing to listen to my campaign spiel, even if it was in a daze of dehydration and am I really just standing on Telegraph Ave for 2 hours?
The inspirational part was the diversity of the crowd. Not token-ish diversity, but real diversity. Young and old, Black, white, Asian, men, women, gays and lesbians holding hands. Kids (mostly mine) running around. A woman showed me a new way to tie Qu's shoes. A man fell over and 8 people rushed to help. People weren't even jostling each other or pissed if people cut the line. There was plenty of room and a sense of "we'll get there eventually" that kept people sane. Very cool. NBC11 has this video of the crowd.
Obviously if I win I will be crowing about it here, but I'm not holding my breath. Still I am glad I participated. Although I really don't know what to do with this overabundance of warm fuzzy uncynicism.
The inspirational part was the diversity of the crowd. Not token-ish diversity, but real diversity. Young and old, Black, white, Asian, men, women, gays and lesbians holding hands. Kids (mostly mine) running around. A woman showed me a new way to tie Qu's shoes. A man fell over and 8 people rushed to help. People weren't even jostling each other or pissed if people cut the line. There was plenty of room and a sense of "we'll get there eventually" that kept people sane. Very cool. NBC11 has this video of the crowd.
Obviously if I win I will be crowing about it here, but I'm not holding my breath. Still I am glad I participated. Although I really don't know what to do with this overabundance of warm fuzzy uncynicism.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Lucky Me
Do you ever hope to see someone famous?
And then, you know how sometimes you are in the grocery store or in line at the ATM and you see someone who is so ugly and dressed like such a mess it could only be Donatella Versace? Well, that happened to me today.
Only since I was in Lucky's in Alameda, I strongly suspect it wasn't really her, sadly.
And then, you know how sometimes you are in the grocery store or in line at the ATM and you see someone who is so ugly and dressed like such a mess it could only be Donatella Versace? Well, that happened to me today.
Only since I was in Lucky's in Alameda, I strongly suspect it wasn't really her, sadly.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Congratulations
My sister won the St. Scobie’s Mock Brackets Tournament, beating out a Zag grad AND a Duke grad. I think maybe *certain* people let their emotional feelings usurp their better judgment during the tourney pick process. Oh, well, that just means those of us who don’t give a rat’s ass do a lot better. On the other hand, another contender appears to pick the lower ranking team every single time. This equally emotional calculus (her love of the underdog) also serves the Laiacona sisters well. Better luck next year, suckas!
Monday, April 07, 2008
For Your Reading Pleasure
I Dream of Barack
Which reminds me. I once had a dream that I was having a dinner party, and JFB was there, and I brought out an old 7-inch I had of his hardcore band playing Happy Birthday b/w a spoken word piece by Obama. He got mad that I showed it to everyone at the party and we all laughed and laughed.
Which reminds me. I once had a dream that I was having a dinner party, and JFB was there, and I brought out an old 7-inch I had of his hardcore band playing Happy Birthday b/w a spoken word piece by Obama. He got mad that I showed it to everyone at the party and we all laughed and laughed.
The Last Straw
Hey hey! My girl K was the straw that broke the camel's (well, Mark Penn's) back. Her tip to Sneed finally opened Hillary's eyes to what a liability the pollster really is. Forget Colombia! Try the beef brisket po' boy. . .and some Old Spice, Mark. For those of you who don't want to jump the link:
Poison Penn?Hill swill: Embattled Dem presidential contender Hillary Clinton's political strategist, Mark Penn, was spotted eating lunch alone Thursday at the original Heaven on Seven eatery.
• • The stats: Penn reportedly sat in a corner "eating what looked to be a beef brisket Po' boy, guzzling coffee and reading a disheveled Sun-Times," said a Sneed source. "And sweating," added the source. Hey, elections are the ultimate workout.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
What We Did
Ten days may be a wee too long to spend in Williamsburg Virginia when you don't intend to pay to take the full-blown Colonial Tour. The kids had a great time, and it was nice to spend time with my family. It was basically the Tour of Lesser Attractions. The "pirate ships" at the Jamestown Settlement, the Living Museum, the Portsmouth Children's Museum, the Hampton Naval Museum (free!), the USS Wisconsin (also free!), Prime Outlets coming out the wazoo and the various municipal parks of James City County. All of them deserve a B+ for fun. The highlight for me was the "adventure" Liam and I had "exploring" the swamp behind my mom's house. Freshwater clams and rotted stills abound.
The only attraction I am sorry we missed is the much-hated Presidents' Park. Much-hated by the residents of Billsburg, is what I mean. I am sure hipsters and ironic-iphiliacs will love the place. This dude thought the world needed gigantic busts of all the presidents but the good citizens of Williamsburg most assuredly disagree. Its the sort of thing you just don't do. Colonial Williamsburg (tm) sued the guy to stop him, but he shrewedly built on county land, so they can't touch him. I love when cases get resolved on jurisdictional grounds.
What Did I Missed While I Was Away?
The preliminary answer to that question is, not much. Our block did have its first Neighborhood Watch meeting while I was away, but I am not sure I would have attended that if I was here. The post-meeting email to the rest of the block did contain this advice, in the context of areas of concern:
Here on Thomas Avenue, there don't appear to be any meth labs (knock wood), and the houses are literally less than 10 feet apart, and there are lots of them. It seems to me gas siphoning takes more than a few seconds, and requires some dubious, not to mention obvious, acrobatics to get it done. I promise that if I see anyone with a funnel and tubing and their car backed up to another, I will call the police. Til then, I am seriously not going to worry about this problem.
This reminds me of a joke that I knew when I was young. I left one part blank because I have heard at least three iterations of the joke, referring to different ethnicities.
Did you hear about the _______ who tried to blow up a car? He burned his lips on the tail pipe.
Funny stuff.
Gas. I would also expect an increase in people siphoning gasoline from our cars as the price of fuel continually rises.Really? I was skeptical, so I did a Google News search on this topic. It does appear to be a problem in York County, SC. How about here in CA? So far, its just a problem in Modesto. But Mo' is like the meth capital of the Central Valley, so it probably has some industrial use and isn't actually a widespread problem.
Here on Thomas Avenue, there don't appear to be any meth labs (knock wood), and the houses are literally less than 10 feet apart, and there are lots of them. It seems to me gas siphoning takes more than a few seconds, and requires some dubious, not to mention obvious, acrobatics to get it done. I promise that if I see anyone with a funnel and tubing and their car backed up to another, I will call the police. Til then, I am seriously not going to worry about this problem.
This reminds me of a joke that I knew when I was young. I left one part blank because I have heard at least three iterations of the joke, referring to different ethnicities.
Did you hear about the _______ who tried to blow up a car? He burned his lips on the tail pipe.
Funny stuff.
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