reader letters

This will be a weekly-or-so feature in which Colin and/or I respond to reader questions posted in the comments.

Adam L. from Los Angeles, CA/London, UK asks: "Blogging is dead, and you're not even as funny or smart as me. In fact, you're an untalented idiot who fills me with rage. So why the fuck do you do this?"

Thanks for taking the time to comment, Adam! I agree with you about blogging being dead, at least in its initial form. But there are those of us who don't look at blogging as a way to share ideas or create debate or even to impose our bias on others -- we look at blogging as a way to get rich. The ads you see on the left and right of your screen are what pays for these Chanel glasses that I leave lying around every room of my house, ensuring that my sensitive eye-parts will never be exposed to the harsh glare of the TV or laptop screen.

But it's not just about the money, Adam L. There are things I come across in my daily life that move me and inspire me. For example, some time ago I was shown a particularly interesting piece about media and culture that I wanted to share with those close to me, but there was no efficient way to communicate small pieces of written information in digital form! And then it hit me -- an online weblog! So, to commemorate that Eureka! moment, I post the piece that brought us all together in this bustling e-marketplace of ideas:

NEW YORK—Due to the falling out between Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton, producers of Fox’s The Simple Life are continuing their search for the perfect spoiled, no-talent socialite cunt to step in for Richie. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find another vapid, muddied cum-dumpster perpetually drunk on the jizz of trust-fund himbos,” producer Jonathan Murray said. “Any million-dollar Bambi with a vast inheritance and no ambition will do, though gutter-sluts with coke-fueled pasts will be given special consideration.” Murray added that "it doesn’t matter if her pussy rattles when the wind blows—we can fix that in post.”

Thanks for writing, Adam L., and don't be a stranger!


[above media and cultural commentary courtesy of The Onion, tucked away in the archives somewhere]

this answers literally no questions

Bob Novak speaks about Cooper/Miller case, essentially says nothing:

Robert D. Novak, the columnist whose unmasking of a C.I.A. operative prompted an investigation of who had given her name to him and others, expressed disappointment yesterday that two other reporters faced going to jail for not cooperating in the case.

But Mr. Novak, in an appearance on "Inside Politics" on CNN and in a subsequent telephone interview, once again refused to answer questions about what contact, if any, he had had with the federal prosecutor conducting the investigation or about what extent he might have cooperated in the case.

[...]

"If anyone thinks they're going to jail because of me, it's madness," said Mr. Novak, a columnist for The Chicago Sun-Times and a CNN contributor. "Some people seem to think that."

an american dream

I feel a bizarre and exhilarating mix of embarrassment, sympathy, and excitement when my favorite public figures go off the deep end. From today's NY Post [I think you have to register to read it online, so I just reprinted the whole thing here]:

NORMAN Mailer is catching static over "Asiatic." The literary lion offended the politically-correct crowd by denouncing New York Times critic Michiko Kakutani as a "kamikaze" and an "Asiatic, feminist . . . two-fer . . . token." In a letter to Rolling Stone publisher Jann Wenner, who published Mailer's remarks, Esther Wu, president of the Asian American Journalists Assn., calls Mailer a racist who "essentially diminishes the accomplishments of all women and journalists of color. It insinuates that media companies keep people like Ms. Kakutani on staff simply because they are women and minorities -- a dangerous, dismissive and, certainly, misguided notion. On a side note, with Mr. Mailer's firm grasp of the English language, we're sure he knows that 'Asiatic' -- like 'Oriental' -- has long been considered an offensive word to describe Asians or in the case of Ms. Kakutani, a Connecticut native, Asian-Americans . . . we'd like to thank Rolling Stone for exposing the bigotry of one of America's prized authors. To Mr. Mailer, we'd simply like to say: Shame on you." We await Mailer's response.

This made me think of one of the funnier things I've ever read at McSweeney's:

What started as a bascially innocent college prank has gotten seriously out of hand, and, at the urging of the small group of people who know the truth, I have decided to come forward and admit it.

I am Michiko Kakutani.

Many people will have a hard time accepting the idea that a basically undistinguished middle-aged white man living in Hartford, Connecticut, is actually the brilliant, acerbic, reclusive, rarely photographed lynx-like New York Times book critic and Pulitzer winner.

But I am.

[...]

I have not dressed up as her more than 50 times in my life, and, to be brutally frank, one reason I've come forward now is that I'm 44 and my body is thickening, my metabolism slowing, and getting ready to be Michiko Kakutani now requires three weeks of obsessive exercise, diuretics and amphetamines.

[...]

There were mornings when I lay exhausted in my bed, and Alice Shaughnessy, the Sligo-bred housekeeper I inexplicably have, would tiptoe in with coddled eggs and toast points.

"Sure and you've been at it again, sir," she'd gasp. "Herself came out again last night?"

"She reviewed Norman Mailer's silly, self-important, inadvertently comical Jesus novel," I'd groan. "Somebody had to knock that fat bastard down, Alice. Michiko Kakutani was the only one with the spine for the job."

"Sir, it's not my place to say," Alice would falter, "but I worry, sir. I fear you're consorting with dark forces beyond your control, sir."

"Alice, it's a 'zacked-out feel-good literary culture of mutually masturbatory blurb-writers. Nobody wants to be the turd in the punchbowl. Only Michiko tells the tough truth."

no elaboration needed

The show:

Hulk Hogan's not only the world's most famous wrestler - he's also a very traditional suburban dad who just so happens to live on a 20,000-square-foot estate in Clearwater, Florida. Daughter Brooke (16) wants to be a pop star, and son Nick (14) wants to be a race car driver. As Hulk and his wife Linda watch their kids grow up before their eyes, they're more committed than ever to protecting them from sex, drugs, and the other evils of modern life.

Watch as Hulk wrestles with the everyday struggles of Brooke, Nick, and Linda -- and also celebrates their triumphs. Somehow, he and Linda have tapped into the secrets of good parenting. So don't mess with the Hulkster - or his family. Grrrr!

The first episode:

At sixteen years old, Brooke Hogan is ready to start dating, but the Hulk is far from it. The Hogan household heats up when a 22-year-old college guy asks Brooke out on her first date! Linda teams up with Brooke to talk Dad into letting her go, but Dad isn't giving up yet, he's tracking them by GPS! See what happens when Hulk takes on his greatest challenge, his daughter's first date.

Pure fucking genius. To be fair, though, I always thought the Hulk's greatest challenge was the Ultimate Warrior:

how much did this USDA investigation cost?

The USDA has closed the case on the Siegfried & Roy white tiger attack. Investigators were unable to determine what caused the attack, though they were able to rule some things out:

The tiger-was-hungry theory was ruled out. And there was no proof that the animal was deliberately provoked by someone in the audience, or that a terrorist sprayed it with a behavior-altering scent, or that it was unhinged by a woman with a beehive hairdo.

While it's a relief to know that it wasn't terrorists who took out our beloved Roy, I still wish the USDA had foregone the investigation and just asked me or maybe an averagely smart 4-year-old what happened. Why was Roy Horn mauled by a Bengal tiger? Because he was playing around with a FUCKING TIGER, people. Have you ever seen a tiger? They are like housecats but bigger and meaner, I think. And I wouldn't make my cat do half the shit those tigers did. If there's one thing we can all learn from this, it's that wild animals hate magic shows and gays.


[Full disclosure: I don't have a cat, but I used to.]

sharkblogging

The AP has some excellent tips [bottom of the page] for avoiding shark attacks. They include:

• Don't swim in water with shit and piss in it.
• Don't swim in water with commercial fishing going on.
• Run away when you see a shark.
• Don't go in the water if you know there are sharks there.

Now, if these tips strike you as particularly insightful, I say go ahead and ignore them. Because if you were going to go swimming with sharks in shitty water with commercial boats all around you, I kind of hope you get eaten. Or at least get caught in a net or contract some shitwater disease.

However, there is one AP tip that I think might take people by surprise:

• Don't tan unevenly.

That's right. Tan lines will provoke shark attacks, as apparently sharks will pick up on the contrast in skin tones. This is totally nuts. First of all, the idea that people get such crazy tan lines that all of a sudden they are visible to sharks seems like something out of a bad movie, most likely Deep Blue Sea. But mostly it seems like another blow to those dedicated people who ignore the advice of dermatologists everywhere and leatherize out there in the sun all day. Not only will you people get cancer, but sharks will eat your melanoma-ridden bodies. That just sucks and I feel very sorry for you.

i also had that whole "sick girl" identity for a while

This chick liked the David Byrne show even more than I did (she cried tons and went to high school with Liz Phair), which is saying a lot. But hers is the only decent review I've seen. The LA Times review is just stupid, it feels like it was written before the show:

In music as in life, you can tell a lot about a person by the company he keeps. From the Extra Action band to Arcade Fire, Byrne's companions Sunday were a tribute to his continuing musical vision. Even if his music is less searing than it once was, his commitment to his art and audience remains unbending.

See, I think you can tell a lot about a journalist by how often he uses the expression "in [blank] as in life..." This is what I was missing when I was supposed to pay for the Calendar section?

sharkblogging

This old Slate article about bull sharks (reponsible for two attacks in the last week) comes with a great headline: "The Bull Shark: It lurks in the shallows, even in fresh water. And it loves to kill."

I'm not sure the assertion that bull sharks "love" to kill is supported in the article, but that's really not the point. I saw a bull shark once when I was snorkeling, it was like 30 feet below me and it didn't try to kill me, but it looked like it would have loved to.

yeah, law school is totally worth the money

Why is Robert Novak not central to this whole Miller/Cooper business, since he is the one who actually revealed the CIA operative's name? I have no idea, but it troubles me. And even though I'm technically a law student, I really have no idea how this shit works. But here are the questions (courtesy of TalkLeft) that I would ask were I not, you know, an idiot:

• Did Novak get a subpoena? Did he take the 5th? Was he immunized and did he sing? Or, has special prosecutor Fitzgerald been dragging his feet in seeking an immunity order for Novak while he exhausts all other avenues? Who does Fitzgerald have in his cross-hairs besides Libby, who has waived all confidentiality privileges?

• If Novak took the 5th, for what crime did he take it? Most people agree his publicizing Plame's identity was not a crime. The law prohibits disclosure by those with authorized access to classified information and the like, not to journalists, unless they habitually make such disclosures. Was there a cover-up attempted - did Novak initially agree to one?

above: Robert Novak approaching climax

it seems weird that this is my first post about tom cruise

Somehow my life has gotten to the point where I like to start my mornings with Matt and Katie, so I had the unique pleasure of seeing the Tom Cruise interview as it happened. These guys were clearly as impressed with Cruise's knowledge of the history of Ritalin, psychiatry, depression, communications, glibness, and morning shows as I was, so they took the time to document the other fields in which Tom Cruise is a recognized expert.

On rocket science:

I know for a fact that if you can perform a high-enough level audit, you can fly. I fly all the time. The first time I flew my heterosexual girlfriend Penelope Cruz crapped her pants.

On race:

I can prove to you that you don't have to be black. Being black is a state of being caused by Black Thetans, which create negativity and melotonin in the skin--you can audit blackness right out of your body forever. Really. I know this because I used to be black...

[via Defamer]

i really can't stand her, though she was alright in empire records

[Gallery of the Absurd via la.comfidential]

marimba!

After last night's Hollywood Bowl show I would say that David Byrne is like Jesus, but he was wearing a pink suit (with no tie) and bowling shoes which makes him different than Jesus.

The show had many absurdly good moments (Psycho Killer), but Byrne's final song was probably the greatest thing I've ever seen -- a cover of "Crazy in Love" (he even did the "uh oh uh oh oh oh" parts) backed by an extremely talented androgynous stripper marching band (members of which were having a softcore orgy at Byrne's feet) and the Tosca String Quartet (plus a lot of other people, including a drummer who was using what looked like mini cricket bats).

The lamest part of the show was when it ended and I dropped my car keys in the bushes and had to mount an extensive search, though an usher was kind enough to lend me his mini-flashlight.

democrats would rather just curl up with a copy of extremely loud and incredibly close

Political Wire says:

The latest National Journal Congressional Insiders Poll suggests Republicans are looking forward to a fight over a potential Supreme Court nominee. An amazing 71% of GOP insiders would prefer President Bush nominates a conservative "guaranteed to spark a fight" rather than "someone who’d be easier to confirm." Meanwhile, 75% of Democrats seek someone who won't cause much of a fuss.

The poll also revealed:

60% of Democrats think their moms make the best chicken soup.
83% of Democrats agree with the following statement: "Bright Eyes is the new Bob Dylan."
55% of Democrats say "Please just take my lunch money and leave me alone."
90% of Democrats wish that "someone would just step in and make these tough decisions" for them.
79% of Democrats think Republicans "are mean," but of those, 65% said that "it's probably because they just want attention and like feeling all big and important and the best way to deal with bullies is to ignore them or to tell a parent, teacher, or someone you trust."

also, my ivory scepter and condor feather cap are for science

Restaurant chain Lucky Pierrot is serving a deep fried minke whale meat burger with lettuce and mayonnaise for $3.50 at its 10 restaurants in Hakodate on Japan's northern island of Hokkaido, once a whaling hub in the nation.[...]
Miku Oh, an official for Lucky Pierrot, said the chain is only utilizing stock meat obtained from the scientific research and that it wants to preserve the culture of eating whale meat.

how did i miss this?

Lohan says she can win an Oscar without showing her (shrinking) tits.

She seems so grounded to me.

above: one of the other ways Lindsay has to show her talent

and it's color coded!

Is it egotistical to think that your sex acts are worthy of being recorded by a museum?

Record your personal sex history and become a part of this ongoing archive chronicling Americans' stories of sexual practice and the evolution of America's sexual customs.

My favorite right now is probably the "lesbian group" in Garden Grove, mostly for the hot talk about "fomblying each others breasts".

why aren't you two ponies?

Like Men's Vogue, Colin and I aim to be a lifestyle brand. Unfortunately, that Wintour cunt seems to have stolen our idea for glamour shots with polo ponies.

above: a polo pony demonstrates the many different parts of a polo pony

am i the only one who didn't know about this?

Sad. She was definetly my biggest crush on the new inferno. Which she WON, by the way, so why don't you all just back off Jamie Jilynn Chung!

via whatevs

the ability to speak spanish is very important in politics today

Gov. Rick Perry told reporters today he’s guilty of “inappropriate banter” for a remark he made after a TV interview on Monday.

His words in question: “Adios, Mofo.”

without all the killing, war might not be so bad

The # 1 way to "Be Now":

Join the military.

The [Pentagon] initiative, which privacy groups call an unwarranted government intrusion into private life, will compile detailed information about high school students ages 16 to 18, all college students, and Selective Service System registrants. The collected information will include Social Security numbers, e-mail addresses, grade-point averages and ethnicities.[...]

BeNow Inc., a Massachusetts direct-marketing firm that compiles and analyzes masses of data, will manage the program.

# 2 way to "Be Now" (distant second):

Continue education.

Why the marketing problems, DoD/Pentagon?

The Army and the Marine Corps are having difficulty meeting monthly recruiting goals as images of war broadcast daily from Iraq discourage young people who might otherwise be eager to join the military.

Fair enough. Without violence or the threat of violence, the military is not unlike summer camp, and who wouldn't sign up for that?

yes, via gawker

Not only does Matthew Wilder cater to my distaste for Bright Eyes, he also yearns for the days when artist and pussy weren't synonymous. The degree to which Norman Mailer and Ernest Hemingway would have kicked Jonathan Safran Foer's ass is just absurd.

[Wes] Anderson has much in common with the 28-year-old novelist Jonathan Safran Foer: a fondness for lovable winking proletarians who help the Little Lord Fauntleroy hero; a fascination for the photos seen in an adolescent's Time-Life Library circa 1981 (anguished tennis players, Jacques Cousteau boats, strolling cavemen); and above all, an almost sexual obsession with the awestruck reactions of an advanced child to the big, bad world. But where Anderson's Cornell-box compositions have a painstaking, madcap charm, Foer's greeting-cards-to-self remind me of critic A.O. Scott's memorably withering words about Tenenbaums: "Yes, yes, you're charming, you're brilliant. Now say good night and go to bed."

By the way, I'm well aware that I seem to be lamenting the death of masculinity while personally not doing much for the cause. So I want to reiterate yesterday's threat to fight David Remnick. I know it's not much. But better than nothing? Baby steps.

well yes, that is certainly unsettling

***SNAPPLE DISASTER***

"What was unsettling was that the fluid just kept coming," Stuart Claxton of the Guinness Book of World Records told the Daily News. "It was quite a lot of fluid. On a hot day like this, you have to move fast."

i always knew there was more to those robots than met the eye

OI! This site is only for the growed. That means if you are a little kid, or you're somehow mortally offended by something as silly as robots getting it on, you shouldn't look at any of this crap..

And since when is "goaty" an adjective?

This is gross to me. I like goat cheese all right, but keep that goat shit milk out of my ice cream:

These ice creams don't really lend themselves to being eaten in a big bowl with chocolate sauce -- they're more like dessert cheeses that can be paired in small quantities with fruits or nuts. The fig was rich and sweet, and the strong fig flavor pretty much overwhelmed any discernible goat taste. This ice cream would pair nicely with a lemon or chocolate sorbet or perhaps some melon. I liked the Chiffon a lot, but the distinctively goaty taste is not for everyone.

What was the name of the scary creatures in the Willy Wonka sequel?

Old malls look like Willy Wonka.

throwing a hot dog down a hallway

sarah came up with the title for this post linking to an entertaining movie.

update: according to colin, "the music really ties it together"

wiki wiki wembo

Blah blah blah, LA Times, blah blah poo:

A bold Los Angeles Times experiment in letting readers rewrite the paper’s editorials lasted all of three days.

The newspaper suspended its “Wikitorial” Web feature after some users flooded the site over the weekend with foul language and pornographic photos.

But here's the really great part of he article, where someone finally explains to me what the fuck "wiki" means and why in about 7 months the New York Times will have a piece about our wiki-culture and how all the kids with their ipods and their wiki and boho are wiki-hip.

“Wikis,” based on the Hawaiian word “wiki wiki” for “quick,” are online communities that encourage users to collectively write and edit articles, and even override and delete other contributors’ work. The end product can be thought of as a community’s shared knowledge.

There are Wiki cookbooks, collections of quotations and an encyclopedia.

tyson gets remnicked

I don't really care what David Remnick (who I am pretty sure I could beat in hand-to-hand combat) says, I am still frightened of Mike Tyson.

Tyson was everyone’s freak show, a grotesque and guilty entertainment at once violent, unpredictable, haunted, thrilling—but truly dangerous only to himself, to his opponent, and to those who, like Desiree Washington, the beauty queen, ended up testifying in court. People paid to see Mike Tyson, one ex-wife suggested, in the same spirit in which they went to horror movies or rode the roller coaster.

my stance on photoblogging hasn't changed

The California Coastal Records Project (CCRP) maintains a nice record of photos of the California coastline. The pictures are more detailed and bigger than Google satellite photos, but they're only useful if you want to see stuff on the CA coast.

Here are a few (follow the links to access the larger pics):


I went for a hike here on Friday and we had to scale the cliff because the tide came in and we were sort of trapped on the rocks. But there were lots of dolphins jumping around us.



David Geffen lives here. You can use his gate now, but be careful of the snipers.



This is where we had lunch after the hike. Malibu Seafood. Delicious. Bring your own wine and avoid the malt vinegar that's been sitting in the sun for too long.



I used to live in this picture.

HI!!!!!!! :)

Hi everone! This is Colin (your host). Sorry I havn't been able 2 blog much lately, but I am sooooo busy with my job. But don't worry, I wil have good stuff 4 u all soon.

Anyway, I jsut wanted 2 check in and let you know that I'm OK. Haha. I kno u were all worried.

TTYL :)

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is a surrealist text loosely based on the life, suffering and reincarnation of Anne Frank

All the books I have read in this series (Let it Be by Colin Meloy, Forever Changes by Andrew Hultkrans, Armed Forces by Franklin Bruno, and Abba Gold by Elisabeth Vincentelli) have been great, but I'm still incredibly nervous about the upcoming In the Aeroplane Over the Sea edition by Kim Cooper. I don't know anything about Ms. Cooper besides what the 33 1/3 website tells me, but I'm just not sure I trust her with my favorite album of all time. I've watched with a mix of satisfaction, surprise, and more than a little selfish dismay as NMH's masterpiece has risen in popularity in the last few years. I don't know why it's gained such a following recently -- or, rather,I don't know why it took so long for the album to gain the recognition it deserves. But sometimes it makes me mad. I think of the album as mine, and I am not sure I trust all these newcomers to care about it as much as I do.

In high school there was this girl who I thought was really cute, and I really believed that I was the only one who truly understood how amazing she was. Then one day all the other guys seemed to catch on. For some reason, liking her didn't feel quite as good any more. Maybe it was because some forward for the hockey team got her pregnant and she didn't carry the baby weight very well at all. And maybe this girl didn't go to my high school and this was all just a movie. But what I'm saying is that I wish I was the only one who had ever heard In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. So fuck off.

Wow. This post didn't really end up where I expected it to. But since I have probably aliented all my readers, you can go check out the 33 1/3 blog, they won't swear at you, they're too busy shitting all over the thing in the world that you hold most dear and then laughing about it.

colin is the one on the far right

isn't he adorable? that's me in the middle.

remember when this blog was going to be political?

That was Colin's idea. I wanted to make it a blog about celebrity breasts. This is our compromise.

unrelated note: i find it funny that this blog's spell check doesn't know the word "blog"

i bet i'm smarter than you

How many of these have you read? I've read thirteen four, so if you've read fewer than that you should bow down to me right fucking now.

"But then I found out about your mask..."

I know this was probably the worst-kept secret in town and that most of my friends and relatives already knew the truth, but it looks like those aces over at Apple Insider have finally exposed the double life I've been leading:

In an interview with The Huffington Post, an internet publication run by a second-year student at Harvard Law School, Errol Morris reveals that he has been contracted by [ed. note: company name removed, we're gonna let Errol take the heat on this one] to produce a new set of television commercials.

That's right, kids. I am Arianna Huffington. All the signs were there. Have any of you actually seen us together? Wasn't it a little too convenient that "Arianna" stands exactly 6'1.5" in heels? Why the fuck do you think I grow my hair out like this? Jesus, I'm surprised the charade went on for so long.

But, to be honest, I'll miss being "Arianna". Now that her, er, my secret is out, I'll never again feel the rush of staring into Tony Blankley's eyes while taping Left, Right, and Center and knowing in my heart of hearts that, yes, he totally wants to bang me.

is this blog on?

I assume this post will not look right, since I don't know what I am doing. But I like the idea of having my own (OK, shared with Colin) forum for public intellectual masturbation. Because, really, the traditional, forearm-exhausting kind of onanism could only keep me satisfied 2-5 times per day and, even when I leave the curtains open, it wasn't sufficiently exhibitionistic.