Suspended sentence

First, a little background on me. Both my parents are teachers. I was deployed for a year in Operation Enduring Freedom and, three months into my deployment, my father was called up and served in Operation Iraqi Freedom for a year. So, I feel like I have a little bit of expertise on the story of Kevin Francois, suspended for cursing at teachers after being told to get off his cell phone while talking to his deployed-in-Iraq mother.

A few quick things:

Kevin is black. Kevin lives in Georgia. Kevin has been known to be a "problem student." Kevin was being raised by his single mom and Kevin's single mom was deployed to Iraq, leaving Kevin with a guardian. I don't need to get too much into the racial subtext here or the wisdom of any policy that sends single parents overseas...but let's just say that this event didn't occur in a vacuum.

Here's the update on the story:

School Reduces Suspension Over Iraq Call Sun May 8, 6:27 AM ET

Following hundreds of angry phone calls and e-mails, school officials in this Army base city have reduced a suspension imposed on a student who wouldn't give up his cell phone while talking to his mom — a sergeant on duty in Iraq.

The angry calls about the boy's suspension got so bad at one point that secretaries had to take their phones off the hook, assistant principal Alfred Parham said.

Kevin Francois, a 17-year-old junior at Spencer High School, was suspended for 10 days for disorderly conduct Wednesday after a teacher told him to give up his cell phone outside the school during his lunch break and he refused, the teen said.

The boy said he had not expected the call from his mother, Sgt. 1st Class Monique Bates, who left in January for a one-year tour.

The teacher says the confrontation happened in a hallway, not outside, and that Francois never said the call was with his mother.

The Muscogee County School District Board of Education allows students to have cell phones in school but not to use them during school hours.

The punishment for violating that policy is that the phone is confiscated until the end of the day. But Francois was suspended for cursing and being defiant, said Parham. That was extended to 10 because "he did not want to accept the three-day suspension and to agree that he would not use the cell phone openly or curse."

"We are empathetic to all students whose parents serve in the armed forces ... (but) we do have behavior standards which we uphold," said Superintendent John A. Phillips Jr.

On Friday, the school district reduced the suspension to three days, which will allow Francois to return to school Monday, after officials met with him, the guardian who cares for him while his mother is out of the country, and a representative of her unit.

"People are fussing at us, calling us names," said assistant principal Wendell Turner.

"We are the school that serves Fort Benning," Turner said. "We're well aware of students with parents overseas."

Parham said, however, that Francois' behavior at school has been "a chronic problem."

And Francois added: "I'm not a golden child and I've been wrong, but I was right this time."

And here's the crux of the argument:

"I'm not a golden child and I've been wrong, but I was right this time." He was right this time. It appears that the school officials jumped the gun in this instance. They were looking for a reason to punish this kid and they made a mistake. And, while I agree that students' behavior at school needs to be monitored and regulated, their after-the-fact defense is disingenuous:

The teacher says the confrontation happened in a hallway, not outside, and that Francois never said the call was with his mother.

Oh. The teacher didn't know that it was his mom on the phone. That's funny. Because on Friday, the school officials said that they could have arrested Kevin, but instead suspended him because they were sympathetic to the fact that his mom was serving in Iraq.

So. The school screwed up. They had a problem kid who was on his cell phone during school hours (lunch). And they obviously did not give him the benefit of the doubt...nor did they take into account his circumstances, instead opting to simply punish him. Of course the kid got confrontational and cursed at the teacher. He's a 17-year old kid who's only parent is in Iraq, he only hears from her once a month or so, and he has no control over when she calls (and neither does his mom). And I seriously doubt that the teacher wanted to hear Kevin's side of the story. I'm sure the teacher merely assumed that Kevin was being defiant for the sake of being defiant. That would frustrate even the best of students, never mind a so-called "problem student."

This incident points to the larger problem, which is how over-burdened schools cannot deal properly with disruptive students who come from troubled backgrounds or are undergoing stressful personal circumstances. I'd be interested to see what the student-teacher ratio is in this school, but I have a feeling that this particular school is not equipped to properly handle the stresses of catering to a military community. The default reaction is to simply punish the student for being "out of control," rather than trying to combat the actual problem or to talk with the student and try to solve the problem together.

The real answer to the problem is to provide schools with more funding and better resources, including better pay for teachers who must deal with a diverse student body that may have other things on their minds, other than Earth Science.

And PS: Thanks to Paul, we know that Mike Gallagher is an ass.

Suspension of disbelief

Ya know, if I was a student talking on my cell phone to my mom who was in Iraq, and a teacher tried to force me to hang up on her, I'd probably swear at them, too.

COLUMBUS, Ga. - A high school student was suspended for 10 days for refusing to end a mobile phone call with his mother, a soldier serving in Iraq, school officials said.

The 10-day suspension was issued because Kevin Francois was "defiant and disorderly" and was imposed in lieu of an arrest, Spencer High School assistant principal Alfred Parham said.

The confrontation Wednesday began after the 17-year-old junior got a call at lunchtime from his mother, Sgt. 1st Class Monique Bates, who left in January for a one-year tour with the 203rd Forward Support Battalion.

Mobile phones are allowed on campus but may not be used during school hours. When a teacher told him to hang up, he refused. He said he told the teacher, "This is my mom in Iraq. I'm not about to hang up on my mom."

Parham said the teen's suspension was based on his reaction to the teacher's request. He said the teen used profanity when taken to the office.

"Kevin got defiant and disorderly," Parham said. "When a kid becomes out of control like that they can either be arrested or suspended for 10 days. Now being that his mother is in Iraq, we're not trying to cause her any undue hardship; he was suspended for 10 days."

Way to be sensitive. Ass. I also love how that last quote was probably spoken without any trace of irony. "We don't want to upset his mom in Iraq so we just suspended her son." Ass.

You don't know the power of the Dark Side or A (Re)New(ed) Hope

Thursday. Which means another geek out. Man, I miss the Geek Council.

So, obviously, the major news on the Geek front is next week's release of STAR WARS: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. And, due to a recent geek outpouring of skepticism and outright animosity surrounding the current state of the Star Wars franchise, I humbly offer an open letter to all geeks everywhere who have given in to their basest, most negative feelings. This was originally posted on The Geek Council message board a few weeks back. This post is rated PG-13 and contains adult language.



My fellow Geeks. I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Granted, George Lucas has proven himself inept at both writing and direction.

Granted, the last 6 years have unquestionably been tarnished by the disappointing presence of Episodes I and II.

Granted, George Lucas has raped and pillaged our collective childhoods.

Granted, I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

Granted, the prequels and the re-masters have done nothing but contradict and undermine the brilliance of the original trilogy.

Granted, we no longer owe George Lucas anything after being repeatedly Jar-Jar'ed* with Episodes I and II and disrespected in countless interviews.

*Jar-Jar shall henceforth be known as the Geek term for being fucked. Example: After watching Episode I, I felt as if Lucas had gouged out my eyeballs and skull Jar Jar'ed me.

Granted, the Phantom Menace line "You were the Chosen One," makes me feel physically ill. And granted, there are several moments in Episodes I and II that continue to make me physically ill.

Granted, we've only seen trailers which, by their very nature, show us only glimpses of what could be good about the movie, with approx. 134 minutes of potential shitty movie left to be seen.

Granted, this is all true.

But. My fellow geeks.

We must hold out hope. In Episode III, we have here what we have really been waiting for, and that's some serious carnage. The destruction of the Old Republic. Wookies. Plural. Yoda with wookies. Plural. Remember when we were promised that Wookie battle in Jedi but then we got Ewoks instead? Wookie battle. Volcano fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. The Emperor. The Emperor in all his Sith glory. The Emperor kicking a lot of Jedi ass. Vader. Vader kicking a lot of Jedi ass. Yoda. Yoda kicking ass and getting his Jedi ass kicked. Beheadings. Jedi beheadings. Serious, serious Jedi beatdowns.

Forget the last 2 movies. Just. Forget. Them. Forget what was. Focus on what will be.

Geeks. Geeks. Did you see the shot of the Emperor in a lightsaber dual with three fucking Jedi Masters? Did you see the fucking WOOKIES? Did you see Natalie Portman?! Natalie Portman, geeks!

My fellow geeks. We are not geeks because the genre has treated us well. We are not geeks because we have ever been respected. We did not tune in weekly to watch Buck Rogers because it was good sci-fi (it was not). We did not watch every second of "V" because it fully lived up to its potential (it never did). We did not adore Adam West's Batman because it was a respectful portrayal of the Dark Knight (the Batusi?! The Bat-fucking-tusi?!). We have always taken what we have been given, and we have allowed our imaginations to make the best of it. And we have loved it all, despite the disappointment.

Star Wars has survived in spite of itself. From the beginning, it hit the rocky shores of Bea Arthur and the 1978 Holiday Special. And yet, The Empire Strikes Back followed that abomination. We have survived animated Ewoks and Droids cartoons, 2 live-action Ewok adventures, and Boba Fett being accidentally knocked into the Sarlacc Pit. And this was all done when Star Wars was still considered sacred. We can no more judge Revenge of the Sith by Episode I than we could have judged the original Star Wars by THX 1138.

If we have learned nothing else from Star Wars, we know that it is ultimately a story about redemption. Like Darth Vader, Lucas has stumbled down the all-powerful path of the Dark Side. But we must hold out hope that he can still be turned. We must have faith - just as Luke had faith in Vader - that Lucas will ultimately do what is right. Luke never gave up on Vader. Despite how evil Vader had become, Luke believed that there was still good in him. And despite how evil Lucas has become, we must believe that there is still hope. Star Wars is ours. And we must not root for Lucas' failure; we must hope for his redemption.

Star Wars is probably THE most important institution in all of Geekdom, and like the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic, we must do our best to protect it. And that requires not just forgiveness for past sins, but also faith in the future. For isn't that, in its purest form, what Star Wars is truly about? If it means once again being stabbed through the heart after watching Episode III, so be it. That is the risk I am willing to take. And as good and noble Geeks, that is the risk we must all be willing to take.

Justice demands the benefit of the doubt, despite all evidence to the contrary. Luke held out hope, and so must we.

My brothers and sisters, we MUST have faith. Not just for Lucas' sake, and not just for our own sakes, but for the sake of all of Geekdom. It is...our destiny.

Breaking news?

I'm up unusually early this morning to discover that explosions rocked the British Consulate in NYC.

Two small makeshift grenades exploded outside the British Consulate in New York early Thursday, causing slight damage to the building but injuring no one, officials said.

The blasts occurred at 3:50 a.m. and originated from inside a cement flower box outside the consulate in midtown Manhattan, said police department spokesman Noel Waters.

Police said both devices were toy grenades that had been altered to explode with the addition of black gunpowder. Police made the conclusion after piecing together the shrapnel. They estimated that one was the size of a pineapple; the other the size of a lemon.

The blasts shattered a panel of glass in the building's front door and ripped a one-foot chunk from the planter. The department's bomb squad was at the scene and streets were closed in the area.

Thankfully, no one was hurt in the blast. But it's just another startling reminder of how underfunded and understaffed NYC's homeland security program actually is...I'll be curious to see if it spurs the gub'mint to throw a few more "anti-terrorism" dollars our way, but I ain't holding my breath.

As Mayor Mike begs for your vote this year, just remember how safe he's keeping the Big Apple. And remember how hard he's fought for a new Jets' Stadium, raising tolls, subway fares, and public transportation fees while blithely ignoring the need for a legitimate increase in security funding.

Meanwhile, in other news:

Comedy Central has postponed the premiere of its hit series "Chappelle's Show" less than a month before it was scheduled to return for a third season.

The network offered no rationale for the decision Wednesday, releasing only a brief statement: "Comedy Central has suspended production on the third season of "Chappelle's Show" until further notice. All parties are optimistic that production will resume in the near future."

Representatives for the show's star, Dave Chappelle, declined comment.

One of Comedy Central's highest-rated series, "Chappelle" was supposed to be back on the air May 31. The network already has postponed the third season once; "Chappelle" originally was scheduled to bow in February.

A Comedy Central spokesman had blamed the first postponement on writing delays. Other published reports noted that Chappelle was battling the 'flu'.

Chappelle made headlines in August when he signed on for two more seasons of his series in a deal worth about $50 million -- an expensive sum for a cable program. The new deal was supposed to give Chappelle a portion of the robust DVD sales generated by its first season, which has sold more than 3 million units.

The DVD release of the second season of "Chappelle" also was postponed this year after Paramount Home Video originally scheduled units to hit stores in February timed to the third-season bow. The release date was pushed back to May 24.

Comedy Central had ordered 13 episodes for the third season. Production on the series yielded material late last year but then closed for the holidays and didn't resume until February.

Bizarre. Even weirder - I've been trying since last November to submit sketches to the show, all to no avail. I had heard rumors of problems with the show's upcoming season - everything from writer's block to creative problems. None of which really made me feel better.

In some ways, I'm a little relieved to hear that it (apparently) was not just a case of writer's block, since my ego screams: "Helllllloooooo! I got your sketch comedy writer right here, bitch!" On Tevye's other hand, however, I hope that Chappelle is okay. Since Mitch Hedberg's abrupt death, I'm a little cynical. I'd hate to see another talented and genuinely funny comic snuffed out too soon. Here's looking forward to a healthy Dave Chappelle and successful third season of the show.

Today's a special day

Twenty two years ago today, my little sister Geordarna was born. Yes, I am proud of her. No, I am not happy that I have a younger sister who is 22. Yes, she is cuter than me.



No, I don't know why she is throwing that child...



In other news, today is also International Respect for Chickens Day.

Yet another reason why I don't eat cereal.

British boy finds snake in cereal box
How non-poisonous serpent got there being probed

Reuters
Updated: 11:04 a.m. ET May 4, 2005


LONDON - A British boy tucking into his breakfast had a nasty surprise when he discovered a two-foot long snake inside his box of cereal.

Jordan Willett, 5, thought he had found a toy when the serpent -- a harmless corn snake -- slithered out of the packet of "Golden Puffs" his parents had bought from discount store Netto in Telford, central England.

"It was quite long and popped its head up. I've seen snakes on TV before but never in a box of cereal," he told the Daily Mail newspaper.

Netto said on Wednesday it was talking to its suppliers to review procedures and check on its stock.

"This does seem to be a bizarre incident but we are treating it seriously," said Netto trading director Clive Cooper.

Corn snakes, which feed on mice and birds, are commonly kept as pets around the world.

To quote the famous archeologist/adventurer Dr. Henry Jones, Jr.:

"I hate snakes. I HATE them."

Get Lost

No, seriously. Get lost. Get outta here. Scram. Disappear.

In fact, you can now disappear in America without a trace! Apparently, it's not that hard. At least, it's not hard after you've read the step-by step, easy-to-follow guide on how to vanish without a trace right here in the good ol' US of A.

Learn how to completely destroy your vehicle in a safe and efficient manner, make friends in biker bars, and become comfortable with firearms.

Some excerpts:

Assuming you're a housewife with little to no experience with guns:

Remove the firearm from its drawer, night stand, or under the bed or the closet making sure that you keep your hands and fingers away from the trigger. Nearly all firearms will not discharge if you keep your fingers away from the trigger. All firearms require the weapon to be either cocked before it will discharge else one must use a fairly heavy pull on the trigger to both cock and fire the weapon. If a weapon has been cocked, it could be that even the slightest pressure -- some three pounds or less -- could discharge the weapon. For this reason, keep your fingers away from the trigger!

Always be fully aware of where the barrel of the firearm is pointing. Keep it pointed in a direction which will not result in injury of yourself or anyone else in the event the gun discharges. Ground-floor apartment dwellers should point the firearm down. Other-floor apartment dwellers should point the firearm at the television, book-shelves, radiator, heater, or air conditioner -- anything heavy which would stop the bullet if the firearm discharges. Most apartment complexes' walls and most residential houses' walls are too thin to stop most of the popular projectiles.

If you know what to do, clear the weapon. If you don't know what to do or are uncomfortable clearing the weapon, don't try it.

-----------------------

Leave town. Don't go to any place you've talked about or stated a desire to visit. Don't run to any place predictable. Don't hide in a city or town you've ever been to or contains known family members. Don't do something obviously stupid like running to Las Vegas or Hollywood. If you're taking children out of an abusive family, leave town and go immediately to a shelter in another State -- preferably a State which has laws which help to protect battered men or women from their ex-spouses or live-ins.

------------------------

Use "toilet seat protectors" -- so-called "Ass Gaskets" -- where they are provided to reduce the possibility of leaving skin, sweat, or other body fluids on the seat. These substances can be swabbed into glass vials and be used to identify you. Paper seat covers will either eliminate this problem else reduce it greatly.

NEVER lick an envelope or a stamp for obvious reasons! If it is known you're in a particular city your general location can be inferred by the physical location of your correspondence in a stack collected by the postal authority. You shouldn't mail anyone anything unless it's done so anonymously (wear gloves when handling paper) yet if you feel the need, remember that if you lick something and it leaves your control, you may as well take out an advertisement in the newspapers broadcasting your general location.

------------------------

The anti-establishment and socially disassociated populace has always existed and has always been an asset to those on the run. Your job is to find them if you need them. Be honest with such people since they know the score and will shine you on if you're a lying jerk.

Motorcycle Hangouts.
Buy people drinks, talk politics, express your viewpoints, and get to know the people in motorcycle hangouts.

Express an honest interest in learning how to ride safely. Find out what it's like to drop everything and ride to feel free.

Eventually, let a few you think you can trust know that you're looking for a place to hang out "out of the way" for a couple of days. Don't press the issue and don't ask outright for shelter. Ask around about where a good spot to sleep is out in the hills where the cops won't find you. Someone may offer you a tent in his backyard.

Ask where a good place is to find something to eat or get day labor. Someone may offer you a fiver or yard work.

Honestly make friends with some of the people. Your best bet is not to lead people on and take advantage of them but to actually befriend people who can help you hide and then -- hopefully -- start a new life with a new identity.

You know, I never really seriously considered dropping out of society and re-inventing myself as a cool, mysterious loner on the lam, living day-to-day through hard manual labor ... but I have to admit, after reading this little how-to essay, the idea does sound kind of romantic. Except the part about the "ass gaskets." That part was just weird.

That's why he's a PROFESSIONAL

John Rogers once again nails it...and I ain't too proud to link to it.

Here's a little slice o' Rogers' wisdom:

Now who the hell am I to even think I have something to contribute here? Well, let's say the candidate's job is to walk into a room of complete strangers and get them to like him. Connect with him. Wow, the few rare politicians who can do that, they're worth their weight in gold.

I did that for twelve years. So did hundreds of other people you've never heard of. We're stand-ups, and that's the ENTRY-LEVEL for the job.

A good stand-up can walk into a room, a bar with no stage and a shit mic, in the deep goddam South or Montana or Portland or Austin or Boston, and not only tell jokes with differing political opinions than the crowd, can get them to laugh. With all due respect to our brother performers in theater, etc., we can walk into a room of any size from 20 to 2000 complete strangers with no shared background and not just evoke emotion ... we can evoke a specific strong emotion every 15 seconds. For an HOUR. A good stand-up can make fun of your relationship with your wife, make fun of your job, make fun of your politics, all in front of a thousand strangers, and afterward that same person will go up and invite the stand-up to a barbecue.

In short -- every club audience is a swing state.

Good natured ribbing

First Lady Laura Bush on her husband:

"He's learned a lot about ranching since that first year, when he tried to milk the horse. What's worse, it was a male horse," she said.

From Earthtimes.org:

George (President Bush) is usually in bed by now. I'm married to the president of the United States and here's our typical evening: Nine o'clock and Mr. Excitement here is sound asleep. I'm a desperate housewife ... left watching 'Desperate Housewives' -- with Lynne Cheney (the Vice President's wife)."

She then went on to tell how the vice president's wife went to a Chippendale's (men's strip club), "along with Condoleezza Rice and (top presidential adviser) Karen Hughes."

"But it was OK. (Supreme Court justices) Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Sandra Day O'Connor saw us there. I won't say what went on, but let's just say that Lynne's Secret Service nickname now is 'Dollar Bill.'"

Hahahahaha! Double standards are hilarious!

Idol thoughts

Since this is the week that Constantine was booted off American Idol, I thought now would be a good time to mention this little Benari fun fact.

Fresh out of college, I did a little corporate comedy theatre with a Boston-based group to help pay the bills. Yeah, it's unglamorous, demeaning, and sould crushing, but a little Murder Mystery and corporate entertainment never hurt anyone. Much. The people were great and the gigs were a nice diversion while I fgured out what I wanted to do when I grew up. I'm still working on that part...

Anyway.

I played a number of parts and did a bunch of shows, all across the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts. One of the regular shows I did during the summer of '99 was a Mississippi Riverboat Murder Mystery cruise around Boston Harbor, wherein I played the brooding Cowboy gambler. Pretty easy gig. I wore a 10-gallon hat and cowboy boots, played poker the entire night, and dropped a few red-herring clues over the course of 2-3 hours. Not a bad way to earn some extra bucks. Of course, then I joined the Army (Reserve)and shipped off to Basic Training in February of 2000 ... leaving Comedy Theatre Productions with a role to fill for the upcoming summer cruise.

My replacement? That's right.

Constantine Maroulis.

And now you know...the rest of the story.

Good DAY.

The Abyss Gazes Also

So, it's Thursday. And as some readers might know, back in my Boston days, I used to do a monthly Thursday show called the Geek Council with these guys. Actually, to be technical, the show was called "The Grand High Council of All Things True" ... but I digress. Yet again.

Anyway - the point is, it's Thursday and Thursdays hold a special place in my geek heart. Which brings me to the point of this particular post. Mike Sterling mentions a Watchmen musical over on Progessive Ruin, specifically relating this conversation:

Me: "Yeah, I saw Warren Ellis' comment about this on his site...and about how he wouldn't be surprised if the Watchmen movie turned out to be a musical."

D: "Actually, I'd like to see a musical verison of Watchmen."

Me (singing): "I feel so bluuuuuue...."

Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.

Funny thing about geeks...

Long before David Bowie even mentioned that he'd like to turn Watchmen into a rock opera - waaaay back in September of 2002, WBCN's own uber-geek Rob Reuter joked on our message board that he was waiting to see the Watchmen musical...to which, Ross and I responded by writing up several songs from said musical. So now, for your reading pleasure, excerpts from our Watchmen: the Musical. Blame Rob Reuter.


I kicked things off with this hastily written ditty:

"They called for the Doct-or, Dr. Manhatten.
I am the Doct-or, I have my own patent.

With a wave of my hand,
I'll turn glass into sand;
I can equate the precise rate at which matter can relate;
out of time I might fall but I will still heed the call;
have I made it quite clear, quarks and leptons I hold dear.
What the future may hold, do I know what will happen?
Yes! for I am the Doct-or - I'm Dr. Manhatten."

Ross responded with:

Dead dog in the alley
Nobody cares
Dead alien thing in the city
Everybody stares.

Veidt sees his wrong as right
That's no surprise
Everything looks black and white
When you see the world through
Rorschach's eeeeeeeeyes!

So then I wrote the opening number:

(Cry No) Tears For a Clown - *opening number*

The Comedian's dead (who is that? Should I weep?)
And the city's in bed (why is that? Should they sleep?)
And the moon, like a god, straddles the skyyyyyyyy!

Has the world really changed (Is it true? What he says?)
Are the heroes estranged (Are we here? In a haze?)
Could it be, is he right? That the end is niiiiiiigh?


Cry no tears for this clown
For vile deeds fill his past
and while no villain was found
surely he will laugh last!

Smiley face filled with stains
For ourselves we must fend
But the question remains
Who watches...the WatchMEN!

Ross then gave us this haunting duet:

Hollis:
A long time ago, I prowled the street
I searched high and low for crime.
But so many years wear on an old man's feet
And after a while I knew it was my time.

CHORUS:
Who has a care for an ooold Night Owl
Who Who? Hoo Hoo?
Who has a prayer for an oold Night Owl
Who Who? Hoo Hoo?

I tried to make things right.
I hope I did some good.
But I'm through with the Night.
I'm done with my tiiiime, Under the Hood.

Daniel:
I once met a man who changed my life.
I tried to be just like him.
I'd use gadgetry to ease people's strife
I fought villains no matter how grim.

I dedictaed my life to fighting crime
I made the world better in my spare time
But the damned Keene Act cut me down in my prime.

Ooooh.

CHORUS:
Who has a care for an ooold Night Owl
Who Who? Hoo Hoo?
Who has a prayer for an oold Night Owl
Who Who? Hoo Hoo?

Hollis:
I tried to make things right.

Daniel:
I hope I did some good.

Hollis:
But I'm through with the Night.

Hollis and Daniel:
I'm done with my tiiiime, Under the Hood.

Quoth Ross: "Not a dry eye in the house, baby."

But now Ozymandias needed his own showstopper. Which I was happy to give him:

'Look Upon My Works, Ye Mighty (and Despair)'

What hell hath men wrought?
who shall lead the way?
Cannot they be taught?
I've not yet had my say...


I've traveled far and near,
deep answers I have sought
Alone I stand, I fear
I must free the world from this Gordian Knot...

And when the mighty fall!
I shall rise above them all
My path is clear, my mind is strong

Your pleas have all been heard
My wrath has been incurred
this is my plan, this is my song

War!
You foolish humans all know
War!
And now I see I can end
War!
An end to war, shall be no more, an end to waaaaaaaaar!


And when the mighty fall!
I shall rise above them all
To win it all takes sacrifice

I've given up all this
even my dear Bu-ba-stis
To save mankind, but at what price?

Ross then asked, what about the people?

Tick tock
tick tock
tick tock
tick tock

Look at all the clocks
Hey it's almost noon.
Boy the time does fly
Gonna have a biiig war soon.


Tick tock
tick tock
tick tock

Look at all the clocks.
Just about midnight.
I should get to bed
Oh no a teeeenemant fire.


Tick tock
tick tock

Look at all the clocks.
Once again it's noon.
Something's in the air
Feels like impeeeending doom.


Tick tock

Look at all the clocks
Eleven thirty five
Boy my life's a mess
But hey, there's allllllways ti--

Gotta love an abrupt ending!

At this point, Rob realizes the evil that he has unleashed upon the world and chimes in:

Yes, and all the songs are very funny. However, you understand that
I'll need to kill you both for this.

However, if anyone can write a Silk Spectre song that references the
Tijuana Bible porno comic, they'll have my undying respect.

Hrm. Sounded like a challenge to me. And I'm not one to shy away from a challenge. Besides, how could I pass up the chance to earn Reuter's undying respect? Soooooo:

(singing to a picture of her daughter)

Is this the life I've led?
One filled with fame and glory
And as I lie here in bed
there must be more to this story

My life has past, my child is grown
her spirit strong and true
I see these are the seeds I've sown,
my legacy lives on through you

Through you, I can still feel that thrill
Through you, my dreams you can fulfill
Through you, my past slips through my fingers
Through you, the warm glow of Nostalgia lingers!

My precious child, I've done you wrong
For your forgiveness, I'll even grovel
I sit here now, my face grown long
while I spread my legs in some 10-cent novel

For in my heart, my spirit rages
And I'm still young within those pages
But now the day has turned to night
and I must share my burdened plight

Our secret tryst, I hid from you
And even tho' I always knew
My dear sweet Eddie now lies dead
And I sit here, alone in bed

I tried to protect you all along,
and now through you/ my mem'ry will always/
linger
oooooooooooooooon!

And there you have it. Watchmen: the Musical, by Benari and Ross. Now, if you'll excuse, I'm pretty sure Alan Moore is conjuring up some magikal hell for me...

It's cold in Siberia

There is a place. Behind an unmarked door,'neath the electric glow of a red bulb.

Called Siberia.

Wherein, on Tuesday nights, down in the seedy depths of the punk-hipster bar, society's ne'er-do-wells and would-be comic hustlers rattle off acerbic barbs, wax poetic on societal taboos, and lament the decline of Western Culture.

It's a donkey-punch of a comedy show and it's quickly becoming my favorite place to pound some good ol' fashioned counter-culture back into my head when I'm becoming too bourgeoisie.

And last Tuesday, I was reminded why it's either the greatest underground "comedy" show in town or simply an exercise in shadenfruede.

Arriving late, I descended the metal stairs alongside a visiting friend from Boston. Instinctively, I warned her of the absurdly cult-like atmosphere of the show, jokingly referring to it as being akin to a live-action snuff film. Little did I know. The show was already in full swing and the theme of the night was storytelling. Specifically, your favorite drug-related stories.

Now, apparently, the previous week (which I had missed), a certain gentleman decided to offer up his best "fat chicks" jokes, and was literally dragged off the stage amidst a howl of boos and jeers. And so a deal had been cut. This week, he could tell his painfully unfunny and hateful fat material if he stripped down to his underwear and whipped out his fun stick.

And so he did. Dropping his drawers, there he stood, at attention*...

*Which was odd - who gets a woody standing on a cold stage standing in front of a shocked crowd in the sketchiest bar in NYC?! But I digress....

So there he was, his dingle-dongle aimed at the audience like a tiny torpedo of hack comedy, he launched into his invective as the audience tried to shield their eyes while simultaneously trying to watch the surreal train wreck that was occurring. As this tubby Panamanian-looking gent referred to himself as a "Skinny American," the irony disappeared into the stunned laughter of his captive audience. Horrible, hack material with no discernable punchlines + exposed genitalia = comedy gold. It's one of those traumatic, unbelievable moments that defy explanation. You just had to be there. This guy really wanted to tell fat jokes. That's called commitment, people.



My eyes still bleed. No one there will forget what they witnessed and what they learned that night: it's cold in Siberia.

Day Tripper

From Salon:

The Secret Service may have thought it was clearing things up when it turned over to Reps. John Conyers and Louise Slaughter security logs showing Jeff Gannon's comings and goings from the White House. It hasn't worked out that way.

As Raw Story noted almost immediately, there are all sorts of holes in the documents the Secret Service released. The documents show that Gannon got access to the White House roughly 200 times in less than two years, but they also show days in which Gannon is listed as arriving but not leaving and leaving but not arriving. Our inbox is full of hopeful speculation: Was Gannon somebody's overnight guest at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.?

It's not impossible, we suppose, but we'll assume, until we see some evidence to the contrary, that the Secret Service just did a bad job of keeping track of who was coming and going at the White House. That's not exactly a comforting thought, either -- especially given Gannon's rather tawdry background -- and a group of internet sleuths calling themselves ePluribus Media have just raised a whole new set of questions about the matter. They've compared the Secret Service "access control" records with video clips of White House press briefings, and they say they've found five tapes that show Gannon at briefings inside the White House on days that the Secret Service says he wasn't there at all. The group asks: Did the Secret Service screw up that much on its own, or did someone at the White House figure out a way to help Gannon get in without appearing on the Secret Service logs?

Meanwhile, Conyers and Slaughter are asking some questions of their own. When Scott McClellan was pressed on Gannon's access back in February, he said: "Well, let me explain a few things. First, as the press secretary, I don't think it's the role of the press secretary to get into picking or choosing who gets press credentials. Also, I don't think it's the role of the Press Secretary to get into being a media critic, and I think there are very good reasons for that. I've never inserted myself into the process." But according to Conyers and Slaughter, the Secret Service documents show that McClellan's media assistant, Lois Cassano, requested 48 of the day passes Gannon used to get into the White House. In a letter they sent to McClellan this week, Conyers and Slaughter ask whether he'd like to "revise" his claim about not getting involved in the process.

Up, up, and ...

eh.

This makes me less than enthused:



Just...something doesn't seem right about it. And no one can ever really fill Chris Reeve's boots. Still. I shall remain cautiously optimistic.

Tell me again how they support the troops

From the LA Times:

POW's Claims Against New Iraq Government Rejected
By David G. Savage
Times Staff Writer

9:53 AM PDT, April 25, 2005

WASHINGTON — U.S. pilots and soldiers who were taken prisoner and tortured by the Iraqis during the Persian Gulf War of 1991 lost their legal battle to hold Iraq liable today, as the Supreme Court turned away their final appeal.

The justices heeded the advice of the Bush administration and let stand an appeals court ruling that threw out a nearly $1-billion verdict won by the Gulf War POWs two years ago.

The court's refusal to hear the case spares the administration from having to go before the Supreme Court to argue against American POWS who were tortured.

The 17 ex-POWs had sued Iraq and the regime of Saddam Hussein under the terms of a 1996 antiterrorism law that opened the courthouse door to claims from Americans who had been injured or tortured at the hands of "state sponsors of terror."

Their story was little known because the Persian Gulf War was witnessed by most Americans as a TV spectacular in which U.S. forces pounded and destroyed Iraq's army in just a few weeks.

But during that time, the POWs said they were beaten and had their bones broken by their Iraqi captors. Several of the men nearly starved in the weeks they were held in cold, filthy cells, including at the Abu Ghraib prison near Baghdad.

By the time the ex-POWs had won their claim in court, the United States had invaded Iraq and toppled the Saddam Hussein regime. And to the surprise of the former U.S. prisoners, the Bush administration went to court seeking to nullify the award they had won.

The government's lawyers argued that Iraq, now under American occupation, was no longer a "state sponsor of terror." Moreover, President Bush had canceled the sanctions against Iraq and moved to shield its $1.7 billion in frozen assets. This money was needed to rebuild the nation, Bush said.

The U.S. Court of Appeals in Washington agreed with the administration last year and ruled that "weighty foreign policy interests" called for dismissing the lawsuit brought by the Gulf War POWs.

The former prisoners' last hope had rested with the Supreme Court. In their appeal, they argued that U.S. law and the Geneva Convention forbid the torture of war prisoners and prohibit nations from absolving perpetrators of torture of their legal liability.

"Our country does not have a good record for holding nations accountable for how they have treated American captives," Col. Clifford Acree, the lead plaintiff, said recently.

He was shot down over Iraq on Jan. 18, 1991, the second day of the Gulf War. He was injured when he ejected from his jet. He was blindfold and beaten by the Iraqis until he lost consciousness.

"What message do we send for the future?" he asked in a recent news briefing, if the POWs' lawsuit is dismissed by the courts.

The ex-POWS had won the support of a bipartisan group of lawmakers, including Sens. George Allen (R-Va.), Tom Harkin (D-Iowa) and Patty Murray (D-Wash.). They filed a friend-of-the-court brief urging the justices to restore the verdict won by the ex-POWs.

But last month, Bush administration lawyers urged the court to dismiss the case. They said "the Presidential Determination (by Bush that canceled the sanctions) reflects a most profound shift in the (government's) foreign policy toward Iraq — from viewing it as an enemy to a state subject to our protection."

In a one-line order today, the high court turned down the appeal in Acree vs. Iraq and the United States.

"The court's decision is unfortunate. (It) sends the wrong message to those who would torture or kill Americans," said Paul Kamenar, counsel for the Washington Legal Foundation, which filed the brief for the lawmakers on behalf of the ex-POWS.

While the judge who heard the case had awarded the POWs damages that totaled nearly $1 billion, their lawyers had told government officials they would have settled the claim for a small fraction of that amount. But the lawyers said administration officials refused to discuss a settlement.

Today's dismissal ends the lawsuit with no money for the plaintiffs

Jew Stuff

Heading back to MA this weekend for the big Jew Days of spring.

So, let me just wish everyone peace and happiness and good times this Passover!

Chag Samach! Have a great Seder this Pesach.

She speaks the truth!

"There should not be so much concentration of power just in the presidency, there needs to be an independent media... "

- Condoleezza Rice, April 20th, 2005

Of course, she was speaking about Russia. And the dangers of Putin becoming too powerful. But still, I think it holds pretty true anywhere. Ahem. If I believed in irony anymore, I would point out some sort of hypocrisy, I suppose...

Leonard Pinth-Garnell presents: Bad SNL

I was talking with someone about this on Sunday, but Bill Simmons nicely sums up my feelings on the Tom Brady hosted episode of SNL:

THUMBS UP: For the great Tom Brady, who gamely hosted SNL on Saturday night and didn't do half-bad.

THUMBS DOWN: For the actual show, which could have been the worst SNL episode since the Janeane Garofalo Era. You know it's a crummy season when they can't even win with Tom Brady.

It's hard to determine what's the worst part about SNL these days -- the lack of star power, the lack of comedy, or Tina Fey and Amy Poehler giggling their way through Weekend Update like two teenagers who just did a round of Whip-Its -- but it's almost impossible to believe what's happened to this show since Will Ferrell left. I know SNL has always been cyclical (good for a couple of years, bad for a year or two, then good again), but the weird thing about this season is that they have some talented people in the cast (Poehler, Maya Rudolph, Kenan Thompson, even Fred Armisen). The biggest thing they're missing is a No. 1 starter (like Will Ferrell or Phil Hartman); there isn't one person on this cast who could ever headline his or her own movie someday. Still, the show shouldn't be this egregiously bad. Even 20 years ago with the Short-Guest-Crystal cast, the show was taking more chances than it does now (especially with taped pieces). How does that make sense? This never, never would have happened if Lorne Michaels was still alive.

I couldn't agree more...I thought Brady did a great job with terrible material. The writers really let him down, and it was sad to see so many cast members phoning it in while Brady was giving it his all (looking at you, Horatio Sanz, who couldn't even get through "Tom Brady's Falafel City" without flubbing lines, cracking himself up and derailing the sketch, unintentionally making Brady look like an improv master). Robert Smigel's "sexual harassment" video was the one saving grace, but it's too bad that my hometown sports hero didn't have the type of writers who worked on the show when such sports stars as Michael Jordan, Joe Montana, or Wayne Gretzky hosted. If only they had more cowbell...

4/20

Happy Four Twenty. For those of you who are into that sort of thing.

Pope pori

Hm. So they went with the former Nazi* as the new Pope.

Wouldn't have been my first choice, I guess...but bold move on the Conclave's part.

*I know, I know. He was forced into it. Still, you can take the boy out of the Hitler Youth....

But seriously, folks...

If you read this stupid thing and wanna see me perform some sketch comedy, then come on out to Stand-Up NY tomorrow night. Just call 212.595.0850 to make a reservation and tell them you plan on seeing To Be Determined.

TUESDAY, APRIL 19th, 2005, 9PM

STAND-UP NY
236 West 78th Street
Tel: 212.595.0850

I promise to be funny.

Shameless Plug

Funny thing about serendipity...

I'll get back to that. But first:

Come see me perform SKETCH COMEDY!!

TUESDAY, APRIL 19th, 2005, 9PM

STAND-UP NY
236 West 78th Street
Tel: 212.595.0850

Call and make reservations, tell them you want to see To Be Determined. We could use the love and support.

Hm? Why are we called To Be Determined?

Ah, yes. Funny story. Serendipity. See, the offer for me to do sketch comedy at Stand-Up NY came up rather suddenly...I've done lots of sketch, but my main sketch group, thank gladys, was pretty much stuck in Boston and my new group - the Riot Act - was still in its infancy. But I didn't want to miss this opportunity, so I gladly accepted the generous offer and figured one way or another, I'd have a sketch group ready to go with some A-list sketches for the 19th. But I didn't have a name. So I said that I'd get back to them and just put us down as "To Be Determined."

Gathering the awesome talents of Ms. Mary Faber and Mssr. Adam Bloom - combining some of their sketches with the gladys skethes of me, Ross, and Danny - we were ready for action. And since it was a one-time gig, I figured we could just pick a goofy name and that would be that. And when I called back to give 'em our name - I found that, lo and behold, we already had one. To Be Determined. Presto. So, there yo have it. The sketch comedy stylings of To Be Determined. Don't blame me. Blame serendipity.

Come watch us on April 19th. Show starts at 9pm. Be there.

More later on the Riot Act...it's gonna be huge.

And, as promised, PIE!!!

Enthusiastic endorsement

It's tax season. And for the second year in a row, I've used TaxSlayer to file my taxes on-line. It's fast, easy, and efficient. And best of all, they really support the Troops - if you're in the military, it's absolutely free. They already had my personal info on file from last year (so I didn't have to re-type everything) and they have easy to use sections where you can fill in your tax info on whatever form you need. It's all there and easy to navigate. I just typed in my info from my W-2s, plugged in my deductions, punched in all the misc. stuff, and TaxSlayer does all the rest, calcuating everything pretty nicely.

As a precaution, I had calculated my taxes the ol' fashioned way last week, so when TaxSlayer's results matched up with my own hand-written results, I clicked on a few more buttons, printed out a copy for my records, and submitted my taxes on-line. Within 48 hours, I had received confirmation from both the state and federal agencies that my taxes had been accepted and now I anxiously await my pretty generous refunds. THANK YOU, TAXSLAYER!

Why am I sharing all this boring tax information? Because I believe in Karma. And if an unprovoked endorsement of an on-line tax service that made my life easier helps keep my tax mojo in good harmony with the universe, then so be it.

Next up, more pie!

We can rebuild it

I know what I want for my birthday.



Dedicated Superman film enthusiasts have long carried a torch for the never-before-seen, partially-filmed Richard Donner version of Superman II.

The hope was to recut the film to make it feel more like Donner's "Superman The Movie." Before work could seriously begin, the extended TV broadcasts needed to be acquired to include some of those great Donner moments that didn't make it into the theatrical cut.

Rolling up their sleeves, they took matters into their own hands.

So with the support of fans and friends from around the globe, the fan edit was put aside, and the business of restoring the entire film began. It took about 2 years to acquire the footage, and make it watchable, but the results were less than satisfying. The word once again went out for extended broadcasts, and both Bill Williams and Jonathan Hoyle answered the call. The choice wasn't easy, but after a lot of scrutiny, Bill's footage was the actual source chosen to improve RIC. But special thanks to Jonathan for sending his original master as well.
It's been said many times, this film will never win any quality awards. The footage supplied came from home recordings. So anyone expecting amazing detail and clarity will be sorely disappointed. But if you've seen any version of the extended broadcasts, you'll probably appreciate the way it's presented here. Great care has been taken to make the film as watchable as possible, no commercials, no subtitles, no station ID's. Thanks to the generous help of a very talented individual, even the audio got a polishing as well.

Features on the special 2-Disc set include:

- The complete two hour, twenty-six minute version of the film.
- On-screen commentary track, detailing what footage Donner shot, and other RIC trivia.
- Long out of print documentary "The Making of Superman II."
- Long out of print "Superman II Soundtrack."
- "Lost Scene Gallery" featuring pictures of Donner's unreleased work on Superman II.
- "Restoration Demonstration" showing before and after footage examples.
- Complete RIC artwork folder. All the artwork, from the cover to the disc art, it's all included in TIFF file format.

This latest fan film project not only serves as a plea for an official Richard Donner-cut version of the Superman II movie, it also represents the ongoing evolution of how technology has changed our popular culture. Not content with the theatrical release of a movie, motivated fans can now actually re-cut movies to better fit their own idealized visions. Using production notes, existing footage, digitial editing equipment, and some clever technical know-how, would-be film-makers can create their own director's cuts of films. Or, they can take the raw footage and re-edit an entirely new movie. Dedicated fans can apply updated SFX to beloved-yet-outdated sci-fi flicks. In short, what George Lucas has done to Star Wars, any fan (with the right equipment and knowledge) can now do to the movie of their choosing.

We've already moved beyond simply burning copies of cult classics onto DVRs; we are now in the future, where pre-existing movies become the fodder for an endless array of new and unique fan fiction. It's the new do-it-yourself cinema. Movies just the way you like it. And if you don't like it...well, you can just fix that, too, with a few keystrokes.

Always the last to know...

So...Britney announced she's pregnant. Wow. I hadn't heard anything about this for the past three months! Thanks for the breaking news.

I would make a pithy comment here about not caring, but I did just post about Britney Spears...so, really, let's just call the whole thing a wash.

Curse my devotion to pop culture...

Digits

Witnessed on the Subway this morning:

An attractive, raven-haired young lady dressed in black sits quietly in the furthest corner of the last car of the A Train, staring sorrowfully at her feet and generally avoiding eye contact of any kind.

A young lad with a buzz cut and a leather jacket rises from his seat, looking as if he has just stepped out of a Frat House. Preparing to get off at his next stop, he suddenly deviates from his course. His arm darts out, awkwardly reaching across several straphangers, a sweaty, crushed piece of paper in his hand. I can only presume his number is scribbled on it.

Raven-haired beauty continues to avoid eye contact, intently inspecting her shoes. The Frat boy's arm becomes annoyed as he punches the air three times, aggressively vying for her silent attention. She tenses, straining her neck to avoid even appearing to look in his direction. Finally, desperately, he throws the scrap paper at her; it angrily lands in her lap, eliciting an almost disgusted "tsk" from her. The shields have been breached, the defenses broken, and his smudged digits lay crumpled in her lap.

Brakes squeal. The doors open. Frat boy bounds off, into destiny. The scrap of paper remains, the only tangible proof that he had ever even been present on the train. The doors close. The station melts away into the darkness of NYC's underground tunnels. Her eyes lock onto the piece of paper. Suddenly, she looks up and our eyes meet. I have witnessed the entire incident. Her eyes scan my face for a reaction, perhaps even guidance. I shrug, bemused. This seems to satisfy her, and she reluctantly wraps her slender fingers around the paper, stuffing it into her bag.

Brakes squeal again. The doors open and I am at my stop. I brush past the straphangers and step off the train, into the rest of my day. As the doors close behind me, I glance back to catch a glimpse of the raven-haired lady mournfully staring once more at nothing. And then, in a hiss of metal, she is gone.

Oyfkumen

The lizards who run the world are awake. And they hate when the Yankees lose.

Mass Marketing

I was born and raised in Massachusetts. Grew up in Chelmsford; performed on the stage from Gloucester to Sudbury; went to Brandeis in Waltham; lived in Newton; sailed the Merrimack; worked and played in Lowell; stood on Lexington Green; taken a dip in Walden Pond; spent many a college night of debauchery out in Western Mass; seen many a Pats' game in Foxboro; lounged on the beaches of the Cape; walked the eerie streets of Salem; churned butter at Plymouth Plantation; told jokes from atop Fanueil Hall; saw Tiny Tim get married at Spooky World back when it was in Berlin; experienced heartbreak and victory at Fenway ... and more. Much more. I think I know Massachusetts.

So it was a little disappointing to witness my home state's latest ad campaign spotlighting "normal" people mechanically repeating the line "This is my Massachusetts" over bland and emotionless stock footage of what is supposed to be highlights of the great commonwealth.

Okay. You guys ain't DeNiro, this ain't an American Express commercial, and Massachusetts ain't New York. The half-hearted attempt to promote the wonders of Mass by mimicking credit card ads promoting New York City just comes off as desperate and lame. Massachusetts is home to the World Champion Boston Red Sox and the World Champion New England Patriots, making it possibly the best sports town around right now. It's the home of the American Revolution and home to the "cradle of American liberty," where the famous "shot heard 'round the world" was fired. It's the birth place of Jack Kerouac and John F. Kennedy, the breeding ground for some of the best comics who ever picked up a mike, the home to the dirty water of the River Charles. The Hub of the Universe. Somehow, fuzzy camera work showing blurred lights, some lady shopping somewhere, and a random girl riding on a generic merry-go-round doesn't quite convey the majesty of Massachusetts.


In my humble opinion, of course...which is wicked pissah.

Sweeping the clouds away

Note to self:

It's possible to love being on the roof too much.

Little sunburned. Ouch.

Spring forward

We officially opened up the roof deck today. About 60 degrees in Brooklyn, with a blazing bright sun shining and a cool, gentle breeze blowing across the rooftops.

Popped open a Sam Adams and sat on the roof, listening to the WEEI broadcast of the Red Sox on-line on my laptop, and smoked a Dominican stogie to officially usher in Spring. Heaven.

I have less than $300 in the bank right now, I have bills that need paying and taxes that need doing and I couldn't be happier. Well, maybe if the Sox had won today, but just being able to listen to the WEEI broadcast in Brooklyn is enough for me. I'm not greedy. And there I sat, blissfully soaking up the perfect day on top of my Brooklyn roof, content.

When I was but a toddler, I can remember driving around the front yard on my Big Wheels as my Zadie sat smoking a cigar on the front lawn, a static-y Red Sox game crackling over a tiny transistor radio and a big fat smile on his face, as the sun slowly dipped in the sky. Those days are eternally etched in my memory and remind me why I love Spring so much. Sometimes, it's the simplest things that bring me the most joy and those little moments that put everything in perspective for me. I'm off to go grill up some steaks and enjoy those little moments now.

Wedding blues

Prince Charles was supposed to marry Camilla Parker Bowles today, but 'twas delayed...for obvious reasons.

And when you look at the history of Charles' longtime love affair with Ms. Bowles, one really has to wonder if their love is just doomed. As if people didn't hate Charles and Camilla enough, Princess Di's spectacularly tragic death cemented Charles' bad luck as Di obtained de facto sainthood. And then, after years and years of living in sin, Charles finally tries to make an honest woman outta Camille...and the longest-serving (and most popular) Pope of the 20th Century dies.

Some Princes just can't catch a break. But just when I'm about to feel an ounce of pity for ol' Prince Chuck, I remember that he's a Prince. And I get over it. I'm pretty sure that's probably how he feels, too.

Career choices?

Who chooses a career based on spam mail? Seriously. Has spam proven in any way successful for companies? Or is it just a way for them to annoyingly ingrain their company names in people's psyches...? Or perhaps its intent is far more sinister, merely trying to fool me into thinking I have mail, only to shatter my hopes and dreams on this fine Thursday morning with its taunting promises of a career in the culinary arts.

Por ejemplo:

From : Culinary Careers
Sent : Thursday, April 7, 2005 3:26 AM
Subject : World-Class Culinary Training






Why, yes, I have dreamt about becoming a talented chef and opening up my own restaurant. And it took this email to show me that...!

Springtime for Tito

Spring seems to have finally arrived. And as a flirtatious blanket of warmth begins to wrap itself around the streets of NYC, I can't help but have a spring in my step and a goofy smile on my face for no discernible reason. Spring. Short skirts, sunglasses, and baseball.

Speaking of which, this latest news from boston.com has me a little bummed:

Francona taken to hospital after chest tightness

By Boston.com Staff April 6, 2005

NEW YORK -- Boston Red Sox manager Terry Francona has
been taken to a New York City hospital after
complaining of tightness in his chest.


A team spokesman said Francona, 45, was taken to
Cornell Medical Center for "precautionary reasons." He
will miss today's game between the Red Sox and
Yankees. Bench coach Brad Mills will serve as interim
manager.

Sox general manager Theo Epstein said he was taken to
the hospital by ambulance around 9:30 a.m. for what he
called "precautionary testing." Francona was
accompanied to the hospital by Sox trainer Jim Rowe.

We'll have more details as they become available.

All right, boys. With your backs against the wall and the Bombers looking to settle a grudge, you gotta go out there today and keep your heads in the game and your eyes on the prize. You gotta show 'em that you got heart and soul. You gotta show 'em that last year was no fluke and that when you're down in the dirt, you got nowhere to go but up.

You gotta go out there today and win one for Tito.

UPDATE:

Well done, boys.

Final Score, after a spectacular 9th-inning rally against Rivera (and an A-Rod boot for a double-play-blowing error):

Red Sox - 7
Yankees - 3

Acting Patriotic

So, Congress is finally taking a close look at the Patriot Act - something that they apparently didn't do 3 and 1/2 years ago, but I digress ...

The biggest concern is that the Patriot Act may not actually be helping fight terrorism. Oh, sure it greatly increases the powers of the government and places some tight restrictions on civil liberties in order to maintain security, but some would argue that while the Patriot Act has limited certain freedoms, it hasn't come through on that important second part: increasing security. And what good is reducing freedom if you're not increasing security? Cutting through the jingoism and the soundbytes, it's a good idea to actually examine programs, laws, and tools. I mean, that's the standard we've implemented for students, doesn't our national security deserve the same scrutiny? I mean, if we're really serious about finding the most effective ways to combat terrorism. The only time I'm ever nervous about test results is if I think I have a chance of failing the test. Which is how AG Gonzales appears right now. Why would he want to fight for something if it's proven to be an ineffective tool in the War on Terrorism? I mean, unless the intent was never to increase security and really fight terrorism. Again, I digress.

From the MSNBC article:

In a political environment long on hyperbole and short on empirical evidence, this week’s hearings will be a chance for proponents of the Patriot Act to offer proof that it works and for the law’s opponents to offer specific instances of it being used to violate constitutional rights.

The hearings will be an opportunity for Gonzales "to put some color, some interesting stories, to the statistics," said Viet Dinh, who served as assistant attorney general in the Bush administration until last summer and had a central role in writing the Patriot Act.

I'm guessing that "color" will be brown-ish...

The Enemy Within

I have never liked David Wells. His bulky frame, his beer gut, and gruff attitude always struck me as being like every bullying redneck jock I hated in high school. But here's my real problem with David Wells playing for the Red Sox:

The Red Sox can't have an ex-Yankee playing on the team and expect to win against the Yankees.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the Yankees are like the Marines. Once a Yankee, always a Yankee. Semper Fi. Wells playing for the Sox is like some sort of Manchurian Candidate plot by the Yankees, only when Wells sees pinstripes, he falls under the command of George Steinbrenner.

Didn't the Sox learn anything with the Mendoza fiasco? Remember Game 3 of last year's ALCS? At a crucial moment of the game, Mendoza balked. The floodgates opened and the Yankees masacred us. Last night, what does Wells do? He balks. The Sox cannot take ex-Yankees and expect them to win against the Bronx Bombers. Once a Yankee, always a Yankee.

On the plus side, reading Thomas Boswell's absurd Oct. 17th, 2004 post-game review of last year's Game 3 cheered me up.

"No team in baseball history has come back from such a postseason deficit. These Red Sox won't be the first to do such a deed, not after the way their own boneheaded blunders perfectly complemented the 22-hit Yankees slugging in this rout."

Ah. Except the Red Sox did go on to become the first- and so far, only - team in history to come back from such a postseason deficit. And, at least, Red Sox Nation will always have that. I just wish we didn't have David Wells.

Grave Robin

OPEN LETTER TO THE FANS FROM JASON TODD:

Hi. Remember me? My name is Jason Todd. For a while - back in the crazy 1980s - I was one-half of the dynamic duo: Robin, the Boy Wonder. You knew me as the second Robin, or the least likeable Robin. Trained by the Dark Knight himself - Batman - I inherited the role when the original Robin - Dick Grayson - outgrew his sidekick status and hung up his cape for the more mature guise of Nightwing. Brash, headstrong, and impetuous, I could often be seen leaping into battle, fists swinging while Batman called after me to "wait" or to "be careful." More often than not, I was being held hostage by Two-Face or Scarface or Clayface or some deranged villain with a messed-up face and a grudge. Whatever.

I don't think you guys ever really gave me a chance. True, I was often portrayed as angry, mentally unbalanced, and reckless. But there was another side to me - a side that none of you would ever get to know because you bloodthirsty fanboys picked up the phone and brutally murdered me. Oh, sure, it was the crowbar beating I took from the Joker, added to the bomb explosion that killed me, but you all called it in. But I digress.

See. No one ever liked me. And even though I only wore the Robin outfit for a scant 4 years or so, I was apparently deemed "too unlikable to live." And so, you killed me.




And - oh, irony of ironies - THEN I became popular! Suddenly, you couldn't tell a Batman story without referencing "poor, dead Jason Todd." I became embedded in the Batman mythos: the Robin killed by the Joker, the Robin who died, the Robin who Batman couldn't save. Saint Robin the Second. In life, I was a hoodlum-turned-hero that nobody liked. In death, I became the most devastating loss to Batman since the murder of his parents. The image of Batman holding my broken, limp body became iconic.



I. Was. Immortal.

And now, I can't even have that. You want to rob me of my dignity once again. You can't just leave well enough alone. Noooooo. You need to dig up my rotting corpse and continue exploiting the fanboy culture's morbid curiosity with death and suffering by bringing me back as the Red Hood. Well, let me just say this: I'm flattered that so many people are excited about me and think enough of me to want to see my return. But, where was this show of support when you were all jamming up the phone lines requesting my death?! What, couldn't stand the fact that the hated Jason Todd was forever memorialized in the Batcave, my empty Robin outfit eerily hanging behind a glass display case, a painful reminder of Batman's failure? Did my constant presence in Batman's continuity gnaw at you? Did my importance to the mythos drive you insane? Is that why, ultimately, you have decided to wake me from eternal slumber and shove me back into Batman's living world?

Thank you. Thank you for this final insult, stripping me of my iconic stature and my rightful place in Batman's mythos. Being the dead Robin was the ONE thing I had going for me! Now I'm just another lunatic with a chip on my shoulder and a point to prove; a half-crazed ex-Robin, once thought dead but now running amock in Gotham, alive and kicking, and boosting sales for the Caped Crusader.

You guys hated me so much that you had me killed. And I'm sure this latest stunt will no doubt bring even more hatred and bitteness my way, so at least I've got that to look forward to. Thanks a lot. If you guys hate me so much, why can't you just leave me alone and let me rest in peace?

Lord only knows, if this dumb idea doesn't pan out, you'll probably just have me killed off. Again.

Screw you,

Jason Todd (Robin II)

Free Technology!

The Supreme Court is currently weighing in on the battle over file-sharing, which has led to Justice David Souter uttering probably my favorite new argument by a Supreme Court Justice:

"I know perfectly well I could go buy a CD and put it in my iPod. But if I also know I could get the music without buying it, why wouldn't I?" This all comes out naturally, as though Souter was listening to his iTunes on the way to work this morning.

(from Slate)

I just really love the idea that Justice Souter and I could both be listening to our iPods on the way home from work today. I wonder if he has Radiohead on his iPod, too.

"Straight up now tell me..."

In 2000, widespread voting irregularities and problems caused confusion and errors in the Presidential Election, throwing its validity into doubt and sparking a call for election reform...which never happened. Ultimately, the Supreme Court stopped the vote count, no solutions were presented, Florida's vote remained screwed-up, and the broken American electoral system remained unfixed.

In 2004, problems persisted in highly contested states, such as Ohio, where outdated machines and understaffed precincts caused numerous reports of voting errors - including some precincts which recorded more votes than voters (I'll let you guess which candidate benefitted from those glitches). Yet, no revote, no electoral reform, no solution offered to fix the problems.

But Fox screws up the vote on American Idol and it's instantly corrected the next night with a complete revote! Yay! Democracy in action! The system works! It just makes me wonder - if an entertaining popularity contest of would-be celebrities garners more respect and faster, more decisive action than the American Presidency, why aren't we voting for the next American President on reality TV? I feel that that may be the only way to save democracy and insure a truly fair vote these days. Or, you know, we could actually allow people to vote.

Speaking of American idols, Paula Abdul is caught in a hit and run. What's the deal Paula? Is it gonna be you and me together (oh oh oh)...are you just having fun?

Ah, well, have some Pie and feel better. Pie!

"Pie!"

Ya know, with all the negativity, bile, and general nastiness going around these days - what with the GOP's morbid cirque macabre and hollow grand-standing - I'd like to take a moment to offer some genuine positive mojo to an otherwise terribly cynical and disheartening week. So, to celebrate the end of the work week, here you go. Some good ol' fashioned American Apple Pie:



Ain't nothin' more wholesome than apple pie, my friends. So, go ahead. Pick up the phone and order yourself up some pie. You've worked hard. You deserve it. Mmmmmm. Pie. So good, you could just wander around the streets of your fair neighborhood, licking your lips and letting your mouth roll over it's sweet-sounding flakey goodness. Mmmmmm. Pie. Ross knows what I'm talking about.

Pie.

It puts the "good" in Good Friday.

Note to the Weather-gods

Please make it stop snowing and raining simultaneously.

Thank you.

Kung-Fu Zombies

John Rogers is previewing his entire 8-page "Zombie Tales" story on his blog right now. Go check it out. And then order a copy from Boom! Studios.

Is this necessary?

I mean, really.

Comedy is so glamorous

Oh, the life of a struggling comedian is so glamorous! Why, in the past 2 weeks, I've performed in hotspots around the city, from youth hostels to the basements of bars. Just the other day, I had the pleasure of performing a 5 minute set in the middle of the afternoon to a video camera and a handful of comics, with nary an audience in sight. Yes, comedy. The most respected artform of them all.

Get Thee to the WE (12-hour) F

Quick. While there's still time!

http://warrenellis.suddenlaunch3.com

Sappy Paint Haddy's Day

I mean - hic - Pappy Daint Saddy's Day. Haint Daddy's Say. Saint Paddy's Gay. Hic. Day. Hic.

GOP Congress rolls over for Male Prostitute

via Raw Story:

The House Judiciary Committee voted against adopting a resolution demanding Bush agencies turn over all credentialing information related to James D. Guckert 21-10, the discredited conservative reporter and prostitute who wrote under the nom de guerre “Jeff Gannon.”

Find out why the GOP doesn't care that a male escort with dubious credentials had unfettered access to secret White House and CIA documents. Call early. Call often. Have friends call. Be respectful. Leave lots of messages. Feel free to e-mail them as well. Let them know you're outraged.

Rep. Howard Coble: (202) 225-3065, (336) 333-5005, (336) 626-3060


Rep. F. James Sensenbrenner: (262) 784-1111, (202) 225-5101

Rep. Lamar Smith: 202-225-4236, 512-402-9743, 210-821-5024


Rep. Steve Chabot: (202) 225-2216, (513) 684-2723

Rep. Chris Cannon: (202) 225-7751, (801) 851-2500,(801) 955-3631

Rep. Spencer Bachus: 202 225-4921, 205 969-2296, 205 333-9894, 205 280-0704

Rep. Randy Forbes: 202-225-6365, 757-382-0080, 804-526-4969,434-634-5575,

Rep. Jeff Flake: (480) 833-0092, (202) 225-2635

Rep. Elton Gallegly: (202) 225-5811, (805) 497-2224,(805) 686-2525

Rep. Trent Franks: 202-225-4576, 623-776-7911

Rep. Louie Gohmert: 202-225-3035

Rep. Bob Goodlatte: (202) 225-5431, (540) 432-2391, (434) 845-8306, (540) 857-2672, (540) 885-3861

Rep. Mark Green: (202) 225-5665, (920) 437-1954, (920) 380-0061,


Rep. John Hostettler: (202) 225-4636, (812) 465-6484, (765) 793-2161,(812) 232-0523,(812) 882-0632

Rep. Bob Inglis: 202-225-6030, 864-232-1141, 864-427-2205, 864-582-6422

Rep. Darrell Issa: 202.225.3906, 760.599.5000, 909.693.2447

Rep. William Jenkins: (202) 225-6356, (423) 247-8161


Rep. Ric Keller: (202) 225-2176, (407) 872-1962, (888) 642-1211, (888) 642-1211


Rep. Steve King: (202) 225-4426, (712) 732-4197, (712) 224 4692, (712) 325-1404

Rep. Dan Lungren: (202) 225-5716, 916-859-9906


Rep. Mike Pence: (202) 225-3021, (765) 640-2919


All contact info was taken from their main congressional websites. Every US Congressman can be found here.


Please feel free to circulate this around the web. Now, get crackin'!

For Paul

You know you wanna follow this link.




Work is for suckers.

Somehow, this doesn't make me feel secure

More e-mail. This time, it's to help keep the ol' Homeland secure!

From : You Can Be A Cop
Sent : Tuesday, March 15, 2005 3:41 AM
To : bpoulten
Subject : Homeland Security Is Everyone's Job







Now, I don't really know what's worse: the fact that they've tied Spam mail into the scare tactics of the Dept. of Homeland Security, the fact that they predict a 29% increase in the need for criminal justice professionals over the next five years, or the fact that they're just randomly soliciting people to become police officers.

I guess any warm body will do, especially if they're the type of person who actually reads their unsolicited spam mail. Um, like I did.

Maybe they saw the picture of me in my uniform, thought I was hot, and decided: "We got to get us some of that."

Maybe.

Blowin' Smoke

Lookit me, I'm just like Sgt. Fury and the Howling Commandos.

What you don't know

Shhhhh. It's a secret.

7 out of 10 Americans are worried about government secrecy.


3 of them can neither confirm nor deny that they were polled.

On the lighter side

Strindberg and Helium.

Need I say more?

"Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?"

Revenge of the Sith.


Go watch the trailer (if you haven't seen it already).

I know we've all said that we won't get fooled again. But damn. That's one sweet looking trailer.

It's funny because it's kinda true...

Oh, satire. Why must you be so darn accurate?

Speaking of...

Obviously, I'm thinking a lot more about crafting my comedic persona and in doing so, I've come to realize that I don't really need to craft one. I don't know why it's taken me so long to realize this. But, as I've slowly discovered, I don't need to be someone else onstage.

I've been performing on a far more regular basis these days, which is both good and bad. The good: it's ALWAYS a good thing for a comic to perform on an almost nightly basis. The bad: not all rooms are equal and not all shows are ... ah, helpful.

Last Saturday, I had a great time (and a great set) at the Comedy Studio. The previous Wednesday, I tanked so badly at a late night open mike, I can still taste the bitter dick I chomped. Now, granted, the circumstances were not the greatest. I was the 347th comic to go up. It was well after midnight when I finally did my 5 minutes of monkey-dancing. And a large black "comic" slumbered in the back of the room, snoring loudly for most of the show - rousing only briefly from his cacophonous sleep to lumber onto the stage, deliver his witty barbs and race-baiting rants, answer some questions from around the room in some half-hearted attempt to improvise with the audience of comics, only to lurch to an abrupt halt at the end of his time, of which he went over.

But, it was only an open mike. So why shouldn't I have rocked the place? I should have no trouble being funny for a bunch of comics, especially when the 2 sitting up front are dressed identically and look like they just walked out of a Harry Potter convention (an observation that fell on deaf ears). And yet, there I was, stumbling through my set, watching helplessly as both new and old material alike struck out worse than Mark Bellhorn on a 3-2 change-up.

Dont get the wrong idea here. I'm not examining my comedy techniques because of a bad set at an open mike. After that cluster fuck of a show, I did 2 more sets which went fine, culminating in a pretty solid taped set at the studio. The real issue is, I KNOW what I need to do. And I know how to do it. But when I get uncomfortable or nervous, my mind freezes up and I'm on autopilot. It might not always translate to the audience, but I know the difference. Moreover, I've seen some of the best comics around have off-nights. Yet, even when their stuff isn't always working, they still exude confidence, as if to say, "I'm a professional. I know what I'm doing." They don't let the audience reaction rattle them. Or, if they do, they certainly don't let it show.

That's where I need to be. That's where I want to be. And that's where - hopefully - I'm going.

It's just the nature of the beast, man. Work, work, work. They can't all be rock star nights. But man, those open mikes can be brutal. I believe the good reverend is right: I need to drink more. A LOT more.

In which I suddenly become reflective

So, I'm currently trying to find my stand-up comedy "voice" - that is, I'm trying harder to just be myself when I'm performing stand-up. Why is this difficult? Well, my original comedy roots are in sketch and improv comedy, artforms that rely on diverse characters and varying points of views. But stand-up is far more individual and intimate. And revealing. Audiences can sense fear. They can also sense trepidation and uncertainty, despite strong material. On the flipside, a strong personality and a confident attitude can sell a mediocre joke and win over the audience, despite lackluster punchlines. And with the amount of time I've spent on writing bits, I feel like I need to invest some more time focusing on performing the bits.

The writing and the performing of jokes are two completely different beasts. Many a stand-up comic will tell you that when responding to a heckler, quickly and succinctly rattling off a put-down will get a big laugh from the audience, even if it's a standard one-liner. It's the speed of the delivery and the quick-thinking of the comic that's rewarded, not necessarily the eloquence of the phrase. It's here that a comic's abilities as a performer shine. Likewise, a comic's delivery can elevate even the lamest of jokes to the heights of hilarity (I'm slipping dangerously over into New Yorker territory here, with the pithy comments). Think of Chris Rock or Lewis Black. Sure, the material's great, but it's their stage presence that really makes them stand out. Sam Kinison had some great quotes, but would they have been nearly as powerful - or as funny - had they not come from the chubby dude in a trenchcoat and cap unleashing his wit in primal screams?

Which brings me back to me and my stage persona. Lately, I've been wanting to cut loose more onstage, but once I get in front of the mike, I feel like I'm very guarded and almost nervous. I'm almost relying solely on the strength of the material, and the performance aspect is taking a backseat. This isn't always the case - in rooms where I'm comfortable, I feel much more confident in myself, and I think it shows. For me, I think the trick is being able to maintain that confidence no matter where I'm performing.

So, that's my goal. To gain more confidence and to be more comfortable just being myself onstage. Because I think I can be a pretty funny guy. And once I'm able to just let go and be myself, the material becomes fresher and easier to generate, I become more relaxed and the audience becomes more engaged.

Why is it that just being ourselves is sometimes the hardest thing to do?

Workin' for the Weekend

As I have already mentioned, I'll be up in the Boston area this weekend. If you're in that neck of the woods, come on up to the 3rd floor of the Hong Kong on 1236 Mass. Ave in Cambridge and see me do some stand-up at the Comedy Studio at 8 pm.

Otherwise, you'll just have to wait until Monday to enjoy more of my sparkling wit and wisdom.

Until then, I give you Dr. Doom being attacked by squirrels.

Bonus "Weekend Edition" Post!

Spidey plus crayons = funny.

LIVE NUDE GIRLS!*

First:

Spider-Man's greatest bible stories!

Second: I'll be up in Boston this weekend, performing at the always spectacular Comedy Studio on Saturday Night, March 5th. Show starts at 8pm. Pop on up to the 3rd floor of the Kong and buy me a Sam Adams, if'n you like. I won't stop ya. In fact, I might like it. I like Maker's Mark even more. Curse you, McIntire!

Anyway. Comedy Studio. 1236 Mass. Ave. Saturday. March 5th. 8pm.


*Not really. There will be no live nude girls. It was just another attempt to try to increase traffic. And mentioning Paris Hilton was getting old.

For Ross

Another good reason to own a Time Machine...

Roadhouse: The Play.

I wish I had known about this before it closed. Seriously. I would have paid good money to see Bruce LeeRoy playing Patrick Swayze in this loving tribute to the 1989 classic. Seriously. You're telling me you wouldn't wanna see this:



Of course you wanna see that. You'd shriek with delight upon hearing Dalton utter the immortal words: "It'll get worse before it gets better." You'd thrill to the tawdry spectacle of rowdy sex and violence. And you'd shed genuine tears over Wade's heartbreaking death. This was probably amazing. And I'll never get to see it live.

And I live here, dammit! I could have seen this if I knew about it BEFORE it closed. How could I have been so out of the loop?!

From the New York Times:

A ridiculous movie is reincarnated as a ridiculous stage show at 27 Barrow Street in Greenwich Village, where the cast of "Road House" will be bashing bottles, hurling chairs, stabbing heroes and villains, ripping out throats, indulging in murder and arson and baring backsides and breasts...

And this glowing review from in-nyc:

Road House, the play, is a hoot of a show ­ out-camping the campy original and filled with hysterically funny fight scenes. The actors literally give their all, flying through the air in barroom brawl after brawl. ... Timothy Haskell has every reason to be very proud of his show - it rocks!

I bet it was the most awesomest thing ever. That's right. Most. Awesomest. Thing. Ever.

And I went and saw the Gates, instead. Dammit.