Even the AP has to laugh sometimes

Where were you on Splash Day?

I guarantee there were some giggles, maybe even a chortle or guffaw, when the AP released this. The last line is simply brilliant, evasive to the last.

For fascinating and instructive balance, check out the Galveston County Daily News coverage of the same event.

It's lovely how well the two items play into the red state / blue state, liberal vs. conservative media memes, but I wouldn't buy it for a second. Mostly because I don't want to, but a conspiracy of warring media slants wouldn't pass Ockham's razor here. The simplest explanation is a difference in perspective. The AP is probably sick to death of covering these, while for the Galveston County Daily News the president's in town -- that's huge. So the AP looks for distinction from the other meetings, and the GCDN talks about the, ahem, splash the president's visit made.

What's interesting is that as far as news goes, they're both just crap. No discussion of policy proposals or substantive analysis, instead it's the big guy was in town, he made a joke (curious or not), etc. Presidential policy promotion is reduced to a human interest blurb. Sad.

Hey, I can just post links instead of writing something clever myself...

So if I have a blog, where I write things on the web, it only stands to reason that I also read things on the web. Of course, naturally. I've been weighing whether to post links here or not, but I'm totally caving. Periodically I'll share; it can't be helped.

I am definitely not a sports guy. I mean, I have some respect for sports and was happy getting arm's-length updates from housemates when I was, but personally I'm just not into them. I don't have the time. So I don't follow statistics, I don't watch ESPN (though I'd probably check out the Ocho if it existed), and I only pay real attention to exceptionally exciting end of season stuff.

Despite that, I still read the Sports Guy on ESPN. He's just a really good writer, and many thanks to an old housemate who first sent me a link. Especially because his columns on movies and television are flat-out hilarious.

Check out his evisceration of "Fever Pitch" here, quickly, before it disappears into the ESPN subscription archives. Complete with spork flick definition, personal crisis, and investigation into the makeup of a chick flick.

Papal Observationism

I haven't been able to avoid PopeMedia – this all Pope, all the time thing. I want to, but it's not just happening, given the absolutely stupid level of coverage the Catholic Church is getting right now.

Mostly I’m learning that I know very little about Catholicism, which makes sense on account of how I'm Jewish. That and they seem to like to dress up for occasions. Still, despite the ignorance and lack of perspective, it’s all so ubiquitous that I can’t help but share some thoughts.

When I read Cardinal Ratzinger was elected Pope, the very first thing I thought of and still can’t shake was just, "Pope Cliff?" I can’t get it out of my head. There’s an image lodged there of Pope Cliff explaining dogma in a pedantic Boston accent.

Though we can probably all agree Benedict XVI will be less funny.

One thing that strikes me as utterly bizarre in all of this is the Papal Conclave, where they vote to elect the new Pope. Now from what I know about the Pope (which is little, see above), he’s infallible. Isn’t he? But how can you vote somebody into infallibility?

Imagine being a cardinal one day, the Pope passes on and gets smacked in the head with a silver mallet, there’s the conclave, a few days later a chimney announces you’re the new Pope, you wake up the next morning infallible. What’s that like? ...Today I can do no wrong, literally. Is that a lot of pressure or a big relief?

For the rest of the cardinals, it has to be bit of a bum deal. How much would it suck to vote against a guy who’s afterwards perfect by definition and always right? Where’s the recourse?

"Your eminence, this interpretation on..."
"Shh, infallible."
"A number of us were hoping to take a different tack in matters of..."
"Infallible."
"However if one were to..."
"Don't make me tap the sign."
"Look, we were able to talk about this yesterday."
"In-fal-i-ble."

I know it’s obvious, but I wonder if Bush thought this was the deal he was getting last year.

I wonder how he feels it’s measuring up.

The More Seasons Change...

Ways I can tell that it’s finally, decisively spring (or maybe a suddenly early summer):

For the first time all year, I left the apartment in the morning without giving a thought to bringing a jacket.

My car has become a sauna, and either opening the window or turning on the A/C is no longer negotiable.

Andrew Bird’s "Weather Systems" finally sounds good in the way I’ve been wanting it to since I first saw and heard him (live) last year.

Pictures of that bald, twisted, creepy-ass Six Flags guy are on proud display in the front windows of the Jewel near work, and I fear his theme song isn’t far behind.

Thanks to Gravity

If I’m reading at night, and I’m a little tired or drowsy, and I happen to drop the book I’m reading, and the book happens to land on a sleeping wife or sleeping cat, neither one of them seems to like that sort of thing. This is not surprising.

But their reactions are markedly different.

The wife is irritable, wakes me up, and enforces her concept of a restful night over my protests.

"Ow."
"Huh? …Oh, sorry."
"Turn off the light and go to sleep."
"But I only have 2 pages left in this chapter."
"That was a heavy hardcover and my head."
"…"
"Go to sleep."

The cat wins points for physical explosiveness. He’s asleep on my chest and the book is hovering over him. I drift and the book drifts down. The moment the first corner touches him (belly), he leaps four feet, turning in the air to land facing me on the arm of the couch at my feet. His expression is a mixture of confusion and irritation, as if to say, "Clumsy pink twit! Why am I over here and why am I awake?"

Impressively, he manages all this before a second corner of the book can fall level with the leading one.

(I realize I’m reporting from a hypnogogic state, but since something furry launched itself from my chest in half-sleep my brain helpfully snap-clarified what was going on in the room as I was waking.)

I invite the cat back, but he grumps off to repeat his nighttime cycle of curl, purr, snooze elsewhere.

Aftermaths are different also.

The wife has never forgotten about this.

"Don’t drop that book on my head."
"That was three years ago. It never happened again."
"You’ve had near-misses."
"You can’t prove that."

The cat seems to have forgiven me. Aside from spending the whole next of the day in bed (which is, I promise, unusual for him), he seems generally unperturbed by hovering books. Though it’s not clear to me if his day of napping was meant to inspire vengeful jealousy or if it was more of a helpful example, as in "This! – This is how you sleep!"


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Side Note: Anybody who recognized the post title as the name of a band should get a lollypop.

No, you're not. Now get over yourself. or: Dog is my copilot

It actually took a bit to explain to my normally tv-enthusiastic wife the particular joy that is MTV's Real World / Road Rules Challenge. I don't even track these things myself, but once I know one's on, I am so there.

And here's the allure. The thing that's been most true, most dependable about the Real World since it jumped the shark decades ago is the formula casting – people laden with emotional baggage chosen to generate conflict, drama, sexual tension, hilarity, and, well, more emotional baggage. (Note how hilarity follows sexual tension.)

Then MTV watches, observes them, sees how it all goes. Afterwards it invites the juiciest picks back for the Real World / Road Rules challenge, where the collection of wingnuts, bastards, bitches, innocents, asses, sluts, mimbos, and raging egoists is a choice concoction indeed.

And they're organized into teams. And they compete against each other for money, subtly sponsored prizes, and the love of their television audience.

Let deliciousness ensue.

The Tivo was instructed to seek out all episodes, and after watching just one or two the wife was obsessed with seeing the Inferno, and I was reduced to wandering the apartment just saying "The Inferno!" in a bad, faux-creepy UHF Saturday horror movie voice with little or no provocation.

It's great.

But here's the specific point I'm compelled to comment on.

We finally got to learn what the Inferno is and how the Lifeshield works in one very special episode where Mike was slated to go into the Inferno, earned the Lifeshield in a thrilling citrus-fruit-squeezing-on-stilts competition, and Jon after a minute and a half of soul-searching decided to throw himself on the grenade of the Lifeshield by volunteering to take Mike's place in the Inferno. Thus sacrificing himself... "like Jesus." Yes, like that Jesus.

(I realize that might be a big spoiler, but really, if you care you have to watch it anyway. "The Inferno II" is all about nuance.)

In case we missed it, the Jesus-inspired spirit of sacrifice was explained by Jon in a voiceover with footage of him walking the beach alone, reflectively, with his belief helpfully underscored by the "Jesus is life" t-shirt he was wearing. (Yup, a beach. Get it?)

Now I'm not saying that Jon isn't a stand-up kind of guy, because he seems like he is. And I'm sure Jesus's teachings have value to people. All I'm asking for is some sense of scale in our analogies. Surely we can see that there's a difference between stepping into a situation of over-dramatized fake television combat and being crucified. Crucifixion being widely regarded one of the most horrific, lingering deaths ever devised by man.

So surely crucifixion is worse by degrees than not being able to hug your teammates goodbye through the bars of the Inferno. In the Inferno you get a bungee cord of safety instead of having your flesh pierced.

Really, unless the Inferno event itself involves crucifixion, you're better off.

So please, take inspiration where you will and do the right thing, just do it without feeling compelled to compare yourself to your god. Because it's annoying.

Well… If you have to, please do it on television so I can laugh heartily. In person, it would be completely annoying.


Also, if you're asking yourself what would Jesus do – once you're already on a reality show – your methodology is clearly lagging several steps behind your actions.

This is not a mission statement.

Wow, the effort of starting this is near crippling. Do I have anything to say? Why am I bothering with this? Is it just a sad cave to peer pressure to show that I'm smart and clever too? And am I?

And mostly, what's this about?

But really, ultimately, honestly, it's my blog and I'll write about whatever I please. To claim anything else at the outset would be disingenuous.

So, giving in to the urge to give some sort of context, here's me.

I'm a narrative junkie (including but not limited to movies, tv, books, comics, and the news); I make music that few care for not particularly well; I'm recently wed; I have a delightful cat (but won't have the blog collapse into daily updates on just that); I try to have some sort of life when I make it out of the apartment not headed for work. And... that's about all I feel like sharing at this nascent point.

I'll probably be commenting on all or any of that at some point, or whatever else crosses my mind. And you'll read it, or not.