how it's a good tihng i'm not in new york right now

because there would have been a good chance i'd be on the 59th street bridge, fighting for space on the ledge with the rest of the other mets fans.

they've pushed us to that.

i hate this.

how i'm actually pitying the fool

ummm...yeah.

don't know what else to add to this.

oh wait. here's something.

how we need any sort of uplift we can get nowadays

from my brother: "instead of being sour about the mets today, i used this classic movie clip to cheer me up. it always works."

yes, mike. that helped. and to that, i add this to the mixture.

how i fear that it's just too late to turn this around

all summer long, met fans have heard that smug attitude from our management, when we weren't playing hard and the bullpen wasn't getting guys out, that smug attitude of willie randolph when he would say, "it's okay, we're still four games up". but it was obvious that things were not okay, and we were fortunate that the phillies and braves were just as incompetent.

it was too complacent. from the outside, we all saw the danger signs.

and now, it's too late. we should have tried philip humber and mike pelfrey in the bullpen to see what they've got and to give us innings (instead of tiring out the retreads we have right now in an effort for them to "find themselves"). we should have benched players when they slagged off instead of "it's okay, it's a long season and we're still in first place, they'll get through it". we should have tinkered. we should have prodded. we should have experimented.

now, it's too late. and we're still sending guillermo mota out there, hoping he'll figure it out. but he won't. he sucks. period. how much proof do we need?

humber should have gotten his feet wet in july in the bullpen, instead of throwing him out there in late september in the thick of a pennant race.

we should have seen what collazo and muniz could do in august.

we should have pressured jobs.

we shouldn't have sat still and found solace in our fortunate position.

instead, the "it's okay, we're still in first place" complacency set in. and now i fear it's too late. the arms are tired and there's no answers anymore.

i just had to get that off my chest.

how i wish i read this in dc comics

there's a good death.

there's even a bad death.

and then there's a death that you would see in an issue of "batman", although without adam west's comedic stylings.

seriously, what an awful way to go. especially since he's not coming back with supervillain powers.

how i can't make any sense out of this junk mail

Dear Friend,

HELLO, STRANGER.

I am Mr. Robert Schock, I work with the Chartered National Bank as an account officer in the Treasury/Credit Control Unit. I was the accounting officer of a national of your country, who died with his wife and their only son, after they were involved in a car accident.

WHAT IS A NATIONAL OF MY COUNTRY? CAN YOU PLEASE CLEAR THIS UP? "NATIONAL" MEANS "OF A NATION", AND "COUNTRY" MEANS "NATION". SO YOU WERE A "NATIONAL OF YOUR NATION" OR A "COUNTRYMAN OF YOUR COUNTRY"? ALREADY, I CLAIM SHENANIGANS.

After these several unsuccessful attempts, I decided to track his last name over the Internet, to locate any member of his family hence I contacted you. I have contacted you to assist in repatriating the assets and Capital valued at 25,540.000.00 Million Pounds left behind by my client before they get confiscated or declared unserviceable by the share holders of this Bank, so that they can share his funds as dividends amongst themselves.

SO WEIRD. I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT MY MOTHER AND FATHER DIVORCED, AND THAT MY MOTHER AND FATHER DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT. AND THAT MY FATHER IS NO LONGER WITH US. PROBABLY FROM SOME SORT OF OTHER HORRIBLE TRAGEDY. LIKE BEING TASERED, BRO.

I JUST TALKED TO THEM. SO WEIRD.

The Bank has issued me a notice to provide the next of kin or have the account confiscated within the next fourteen official working days. Because as at the time of his demise I was his accounting officer, but have since been promoted to the position of Treasury/Credit Control Unit, ever since I have been unsuccessful in locating the relatives for sometime now, I seek your consent to present you as the next of kin to the deceased since you have the same last names, so that the proceeds of this account can be paid to you. Therefore, on receipt of your positive response, we shall then discuss modalities for transfer.

SO...THESE PEOPLE DIED IN A FIERY WRECK, YOU CAN'T FIND THEIR NEXT OF KIN, SO YOU, IN THE NEWLY MINTED POSITION OF TREASURY/CREDIT CONTROL UNIT, DECIDE TO DO AN "INTERNET SEARCH", I GUESSED TYPED IN MY LAST NAME AND FOUND ME. ALTHOUGH YOU HAVE NO IDEA IF I AM NEXT OF KIN. BUT THE INTERNET DOESN'T LIE, SO WHAT THE HELL, RIGHT? THAT'LL HOLD UP IN COURT, YES? AND WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF THE DECEASED'S LAST NAME WERE JACKSON? WOULD MICHAEL GET THIS E-MAIL? OR SIMPSON?

As soon as I recieve an acknowledgement of your acceptance, I will furnish you with the necessary modalities

MODALITIES? NICE.

of the transaction. I assure you that this transcaction is 100% risk free, and as soon as we succeed in getting this funds to your account, The money will be shared on a 50, 50 basis...............

LONG DRAMATIC PAUSE. GOT IT

I guarantee that this will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any breach of the law.

YES. FINDING ME UNDER AN INTERNET SEARCH IS A LEGITIMATE ARRANGEMENT. I FIND SOLACE IN YOUR GUARANTEE.

I am waiting to hear from you soon.

GOOGLE ME.

Best regards,

Robert Schock.

how i would have bought something, just for comedic effect

before he hosted the show "dirty jobs", here's mike rowe hosting QVC late night. and he's now my new hero. this is the best possible job anyone can do under these situations.

whoever taped these, then saved them, then uploaded them is the greatest person on earth.

here's mike rowe doing his best to sell crap like a katsak, a lava lamp, precious moments, cherubs, noah's ark, "beauty and the beast", seagull jewelry, a creepy doll and dealing with callers.

really awesome stuff.

how i might actually be speechless on this one

check out the new levi's ad that just premiered this week.

on one hand, i think it's one of the best made spots i've seen in a while. well directed, acted, edited and scored. the music is just perfect. kudos to bartle bogle hegarty and director ringan ledwidge. there's not anything about it that's not aesthetically dead-on.

on the other hand, i have no idea what it's about.

then again, i do know that i can't remember viewing any piece of film that seductive in a long time. it's actually setting a new standard for sex in advertising.

however, i'm not sure if that's a good thing. or the right thing. or worthy.

that being said, i'm not sure if it's gonna sell any jeans.

but one thing's for sure: it's better than anything the gap's done in ten years.

however, that's not saying much.

just like this post.

how this is a good omen for the upcoming film season

this is one of the movies i've been really looking forward to, and the first reviews of it has been glowing, although any review that says "casey affleck is a revelation" gets me scared. then again, his brother was really good in "good will hunting" and "shakespeare in love", so let's run with it.

i just read a great book about jesse james and missouri during the civil war, and it couldn't be any more fascinating. it's deep and rich and worth checking out if you have the time to get through 500 pages. but what's 500 pages when you're reading about the most famous outlaw of all time?

again, this all sounds like good stuff.

how i'm posting this for no other reason

other that it's time for something completely different.

god bless the pythons.

how i'm struggling to put my emotions into words

but this season is going down in an historical fiery collapse.

you can blame willie for his torre-like mismanagement of the bullpen. you can blame omar for his insane contracts given to shoeneweis and mota. you can blame duaner sanchez for not being in shape and missing the year. you can blame jose for completely screwing the pooch this final month. and you can blame delgado and loduca for completely sucking ass.

but i'm tired of blaming.

i just want to see them hold a lead for once.

is that too much to ask?

how i long for the old knicks

i watched the knicks from 1994 (ewing, oak, smith, starks, harper with mace, blackmon and anthony coming off the bench) take on the nets (coleman, anderson but no petrovic) in a highly-spirited and well-played game three of the NBA playoffs. really good, compelling stuff. those teams would go far in the current craptastic NBA.

it was a nice little gift, courtesy of nba tv. and a nice diversion from this isiah thomas mess, which is just the latest stab into the bloody corpse of the franchise i love. thank you, james dolan, you moron.

then again, it's not like there's been anything said in court that would quantify as a surprise. i mean, of course isiah thomas doesn't care about white season ticket holders. have you seen the team he's put out there?

how i long for 1994.

how i just got this message as an automated return

this statement was returned to me in response to an e-mail i sent out to a friend:

"Profanity Notification (Email with Profanity quarantined by US-NJ-IMSS2-1)"

here's what i think happened:


INT. A SOUNDPROOF ROOM WITH CORRUGATED STEEL.

two scientists wearing sterilized work outfits speak gingerly while staring into microscopes as different e-mails pass underneath their lenses.

SCIENTIST DAN: john, this e-mail is just a love letter. really sweet.

SCIENTIST JOHN: dan, you gotta read this e-mail. yet another nigerian trust fund scam.

SCIENTIST DAN: those never get old.

they laugh to themselves, quietly, as to not disturb anything.

suddenly, scientist dan gasps in horror. scientist john looks over, with concern.

SCIENTIST JOHN: dan?

scientist dan's face quickly becomes pale. scientist john quickly moves over and looks into scientist dan's microscope.

he sees the word "shit".

scientst john quickly stands up and presses a large button on the wall. it's an alarm. it blares loudly, over and over.

WAAH. WAAH. WAAH. WAAH.

everyone quickly moves themselves into position. armed security officers rush into the lab. a rush of cold air is released from the vents, sterilizing everyone in the general vicinity.

a security team rushes an older scientist, a very fragile man, towards the microscope. he raises his hands. suddenly, the alarms go quiet. the air shuts down. everyone stops in place.

the old scientist takes out a pair of pliers. with smooth and gentle movements, he slowly makes his way towards that word. the ends of the pliers find their way to the "t". it pulls, tenderly, then sharply. suddenly, the "shi" follows the "t" as it's raised into the air and put into an air-free container.

the security force quicks whisks the old scientist and the airless container away. as they leave, the lab returns to normal.

scientist dan and scientist john return to their microscopes. as dan begins to look down, he suddenly looks back up, where john is holding his glare.

he takes a deep breath.

SCIENTIST DAN: that was a close one.

how i really would like to meet the people who sign up for this

there are things that sound good in theory but wind up horrible in execution.

there are things that don't sound very good in theory, but wind up not so bad when terrible.

and then there's something like this which is just...i don't really know how to describe this. i'm not even sure there are words.

i mean, the guy billed himself as "a limousine ridin', jet flyin', kiss stealin', wheelin' dealin' son of a gun", and he couldn't wrangle up more than $300 to build a website?

by the way, this is actually real. this is not a fake.

jesus christ.

how i have a new standard to live up to

from now to infinity, for me, the question will always be, will i ever be a mindsticker?

no, seriously, will i?

(in a related note, god bless 1970s advertisements written between cocktails and the overwhelming goodness of youtube).

how the desperate will go to any means

the new york football giants grabbed fullback madison hedgecock off the waiver wire on wednesday.

umm....madison hedgecock? wow. i didn't know that cinemax "up all nite" had a football waiver wire.

how the juice is slippery

from espn.com:

LAS VEGAS -- Investigators questioned O.J. Simpson and named him a suspect Friday in a break-in at a casino hotel room involving sports memorabilia.

The break-in was reported at the Palace Station casino late Thursday night, police spokesman Jose Montoya said. He said investigators determined the break-in involved sports collectibles.

Simpson was released after he and several associates were questioned, but he is considered a suspect in the case, Montoya said. He is believed to be in Las Vegas.

"We don't believe he's going anywhere," he said.

really, you truly don't believe he's going anywhere?

jesus christ, we have short memories in this country.

how the nba used its vertical leap to jump about seven sharks

does anyone else notice that the nba is much more interesting off the court than anything that happens on the court?

you know, outside of lebron's game 5, yawn. but all the nasty off court stuff? terrible. but entertaining.

from kobe's eventual holdout, the horror stories from vegas, the hawks' embarrassing ownership issues, seattle having their team extorted out from their city, a continuous stream of player arrests, anucha browne sanders' testimony eviscerating isiah and stephon, the knicks hitting an all-time low and now, greg oden's microfracture surgery, the nba could not be any lower.

and i didn't even mention the tim donaghy ref scandal.

and the year's not even over yet. seriously, if you thought vegas was a mess, then consider that they've got the next all-star game coming up in new orleans.

the entire league - from players, refs, upper management, organizations, integrity to perceptions - is imploding before our eyes. what a horrible collapse it's been.

i can't wait for college hoops.

how i just had an incredibly harrowing experience

true story, just happened:

i was walking on haight street at around 8pm, heading my way to amoeba records. i cross clayton, and as soon as i step on the sidewalk...WHAM! a huge pane of glass falls in front of me, about 13 feet away from where i'm standing.

i repeat: a huge pane of glass falls in front of me - not on top of me, but close enough.

two guys barely got out of the way, dashing underneath a nearby awning for protection. a guy stuck his head out the now glassless window, just one floor up. he was completely confused how his windowpane fell out.

i stood there, completely dumbfounded.

the glass just splattered, but basically staying in place, as if someone were putting together an almost completed jigsaw puzzle. a couple of shards happened to land by my nikes.

it was freaky, even for haight-ashbury standards.

honestly, would i have died? probably not. but the fact that i put "probably" in that statement is disturbing. completely random stuff happens, you know. just figured it would happen to someone else.

thankfully, it still hasn't happened to me yet.

holy crap.

how the internet has officially hit its nirvana

ladies and gentlemen, leave britney alone! please! right now! i mean it!

and anyone who has a problem, you deal with me. because she is not well.

how this was the only redeemable thing from a weekend worth of football

if you watched as much football as i did this weekend, you caught the amazing nikefootball spot starring shawne merriman and steven jackson about a million times. and each time, your jaw dropped.

i'd direct you to the youtube link to watch it, but trust me, the much much better version is here. the thing of it is that, after the intro, you're gonna have to click on "see more action" on bottom left to view it. yeah, it's a little work, but deal with it. you'll thank me later.

it's truly amazing. thank you, brilliant director michael mann and the intense soundtrack to "last of the mohicans".

how it's difficult to get off the stuff that'll kill you once you get a sniff of it

from metsblog.com:

The Orioles, and O’s co-GM Jim Duquette, purchased the minor league contract of RHP Victor Zambrano from the Pittsburgh Pirates for cash considerations.

poor jim duquette. someone's gotta organize an intervention.

how i just watched britney perform at the MTV VMAs

the only thing i can equate it to is the dead guy from "weekend at bernie's". she obviously wasn't singing, and she didn't give any signs of having the ability to form those words with her lips by her own devices. she was barely moving, and when she did move, it was with the help of two men holding her up (or, rather, feeling her up). her body was bloating. and nobody in the audience could believe any of this shit.

the only difference was that "weekend at bernie's" had a much better soundtrack.

UPDATE: sarah silverman is ripping her a new one right now. bless you, sarah. the world is a better place with you commenting on it.

UPDATE YET AGAIN: here's the video of her performance. once again, i remind you, this is NOT "weekend at bernie's". trust me. i researched and analyzed it. there are subtle differences.

how i've been negligent, i know, i have

so here's some new websites created by friends that are absolutely worth checking out.

littlestern.com by tony stern, an online chronicle about the impending best day of his life.

places to go, things to do, people to meet by anthony vachris, a diary as he travels the country in an effort to find himself.

travel betty is the online tip home of tracy deluca (the former writer of howidiedtoday.blogspot.com) for things to do in san francisco and around the world, wherever she may be.

divine caroline features the bitingly hilarious rebecca brown as the head relationships writer.

and care for christine by tommy wonica has been renovated and updated with as much love and care as he's always shown.

best of all, they're great reads written by even greater people.

enjoy.

how i doubt anyone cares, but i need your quick help

i updated steveohville's portfolio page, and on the reel page, i added the nike "my game is made outside" webisodes.

the reason i'm posting this is because the coding has been giving me agida. if you have any spare time, just check it out and let me know if there's any bugs. it seems to be working on my mac. on a pc? not so much.

and let me know if there's a photo underneath "print" on the portfolio page. again, i can't tell if it works on a pc.

thanks.

how i just watched the funniest season premiere ever

if you get a chance, check out this week's season premiere of "curb your enthusiasm" entitled "meet the blacks" on hbo. it's frigging hilarious.

as if it wouldn't be.

how i'm going to make tom coughlin's world a lot easier

after watching the deplorable 45-35 loss to the cowboys sunday night, i have compiled a list for the giants to accomplish this week in preparation for the packers.

okay, here they go.

1. get eli and osi healthy. especially eli. he looked damn good out there.
2. get brandon healthy, but derrick ward looked damn good. get him ready.
3. introduce the defensive line to the concept of a pass rush.
4. introduce the linebackers to the concept of covering the tight end.
5. introduce the secondary on what a slant route is, and how to defend it.
6. introduce everyone to tackling. that would be very nice, actually.

it's just that simple. now get on it, big blue.

i'd list everything that the university of michigan needs to do to get ready for notre dame, but i'm positive that blogger.com doesn't have the bandwith to handle it.

how indiana university is on the cutting edge of the blatantly obvious

after coming up with this earthshattering discovery, one that dwarfs magnetic resonance imaging and gravity, one can only wonder what these geniuses will come up with next.

perhaps a study on the etymology of this word.

how i can't believe i'm about to type this

but here's a funny commercial for stanley steemer, of all things.

i guess there's hope for the rest of us hacks.

how the world is much funnier with videotape

the best parts of having almost everything recorded is how staggering hypocritical every blowhard in this country is.

we're talking politicians, executives, reverends and the like, people who comport themselves as above everyone else, and who can't resist the urge to make themselves look like an ass.

thank you, videotape. you are the great equalizer. your proof is my joy.

it happens everyday.

i'm sure you've seen this, but here's the ultra creepy senator larry craig interview on "hardball" from about ten years ago, condemning that "naughty boy" bill clinton.

his words, not mine.

so gay.

chris matthews' gaze at the end says it all.

how all the world can be explained

i've always been a big fan of flow charts and successories. what, praytell, would happen when you put both of them together into one neat jpg? genius!

how i wish this happened at yankee stadium

this prank is easily the best joke ever pulled inside an athletic field. i am officially jealous.

make sure you check out the youtube evidence.

how i think i'll pass on this one

i just got an e-mail announcing velvet revolver is performing in concert with opening act alice in chains on friday, september 14 at the sleep train pavilion.

so, for a $59 lower tier ticket, i can see the guys who aren't in guns n' roses because they can't get along with axl rose, the guy who couldn't stay in stone temple pilots because he couldn't keep clean, and also the band that essentially died on the same night their lead singer overdosed.

maybe i'll just send a replacement me.

how right now i feel exactly like this guy

i know and feel exactly where he's coming from, except minus the winnebago. although a winnebago would be nice right about now.

how even history buffs can learn something new every day

did you know that george washington had thirty dicks and weighed a fucking ton? well, it's true.

i mean, if you can't trust the internet and the youtube, then who can you trust?

they are the george washington of the modern era. they do not lie. and they have wooden teeth.

how i actually felt pity for a.c. slater

check out the finest teen that south carolina has to offer.

i pray for the rest of the u.s. americans.

for the children.

UPDATE: here she is again, now with subtitles.

UPDATE UPDATE: yep, we're screwed.

how making fun of celine dion never goes out of fashion

what starts out as endearing winds up with tears in my eyes. and that's because i'm laughing too hard.

thank you, whoever did this.

how he's gonna get someone pregnant in el paso

after using one of my favorite tracy morgan lines to describe my feelings over my art director's designs for our website ("i love them so much that i wanna take them behind the elementary school and get them pregnant"), i realized that i still have a couple of more weeks to wait for "30 rock" to come back on TV.

so here's some old tracy morgan magic to fill in the time:

tracy on a talk show in el paso, texas.
tracy in "blackass".
tracy as "astronaut jones" with a less-crazy britney spears.
and tracy's top ten moments on "30 rock".

how i noticed many things in vegas

1. people are either well dressed, barely dressed or just messed up.

2. you would think that the guys the piano bar in new york, new york would have fun at work, until you realize that they are asked to play the same obvious songs on the planet, over and over and over again, day to night to day again. it's an endless loop of the same crap. then again, once i asked them to play "sir duke" or "for once in my life", and they told me that they didn't know how to play them. YOU ARE PIANO PLAYERS, for crissakes!

3. if wiggling your hand in the air is the universal sign for "my bill, please", then sitting in a chair and leaning back is the universal sign for "yes, i would enjoy a lap dance".

4. also, when you leave a strip club in vegas, you suddenly believe that every female you pass by on the strip would do anything for a twenty.

5. the reason there's no outgoing flights from mccarron airport to hell is because you're already there.

6. there's no culture in vegas, just garish facsimiles of cultural stereotypes presented to people who'd either rather not go there or are too drunk to give a crap. most are in the latter. and they're buying souvenirs.

7. you know you're having a good weekend when the first two voicemails on your cellphone sunday morning are from your credit card companies asking you to verify some transactions.

yep, i can't wait to get back there.

how there is hope in advertising after all

thank you, coca-cola.

how you best be reading the fine print

there's two funny things about this post:

1. this article about this poor woman who clearly will not win this argument but has a damn good point.

2. the fact that this was published on jeffbridges.com. yep, that jeff bridges.

how i'm disappointed that i can't do anything as creative as the crazy

i can't believe something like this is real, but it is. a south carolina inmate (yes, inmate) has sued michael vick for, and i quote, "$63,000,000" because he claims that the embattled falcons quarterback, and i quote again, "stole his pit bulls and sold them on eBay to buy missiles from iran".

i shit you not.

oh, it gets better. please, for the love of god and all things hilarious, click on the pdf for the affidavid and read it.

and yes, i swear, this is for realz, especially the restrictions on typewriters.

how i do look forward to many things

but this could be the coolest of them all. hey, i know rap isn't for everybody, but the wu-tang really know what they're doing. they get it.

which means i can't wait for it.

how to have fun with wikipedia

every so often, when i'm bored, i'm gonna start typing in random items into wikipedia. and if i find something interesting, and by interesting i mean "i can't believe someone took all this time writing eloquently about this", i'm gonna post it.

trust me. you have no idea how rich this idea could be.

but, to add a little drama to it, i'll paste an excerpt from the entry to give you a little taste into just what you're about to get into.

here's my first stab at it:
"He always wears a white belt and white shoes; most of his suits are made of polyester and are covered in loud plaid patterns. He claims to get his suits in a golf pro shop in Kentucky; no one else makes his kind of clothes anymore due to anti-pollution laws".

enjoy.

how i believe this is completely within the olympic spirit

of all the torch holders you can find, i firmly believe that just the mere presence of this guy would finally make those godwaful opening ceremonies watchable.

please make this happen.

UPDATE: this guy would also be excellent.

how we were there for history

i've mentioned before about my thoughts about barry bonds and his whole chase. he's insufferable, unlikeable and defiant in the face of very substantial evidence against him. if you're not a giants fan who owes him everything, from saving the team in the city to the building of this gorgeous ballpark, it's very difficult to find a reason to cheer him on. and that's been the tact i've taken in my time here.

however, last night, for the first time, i cheered.

then again, last night, i saw history made.

i didn't really cheer for the man. the achievement, however, is staggering. and because of that, the stadium was electric (and these are fans more concerned with their pinot noir than their pitch counts).

here's the photos from section 141, left center:


as bonds batted, the place lit up with camera flashes. think of a huge glass jar full of a million fireflies.


turning a 5 into a 6 had never taken such importance.


although it was obvious that hammering hank had a shotgun aimed at his head from off camera, seeing him and hearing him was an amazing surprise.


$40 a ticket bought us some bragging rights.

how i'm with san diego on this one

just like the sellout crowd at petco park in san diego, when barry bonds hit number 755, i cheered. loudly.

i wasn't exactly cheering for the man. i was cheering for the achievement. and, although you can say that he wouldn't have gotten 755 without steroids, you can also ask if ruth would have hit 714 if there were black pitchers in the league. or if henry aaron would have hit his if he didn't play in the launching pads of atlanta and milwaukee.

bonds is the poster boy for this era of steroids, amphetamines and advanced genetics. and guess what? he's not the only one. he's one of many, probably a majority. and to discount his accomplishments would mean you'd have to discount the accomplishments of the entire generation.

if you're gonna do that, fine. just don't stop now. go back and asterick everything from each era.

because you can.

i saw history live on television. congrats, barry, on tying the most heralded record in all of sport.

no matter how you did it.

how there's very few birthday gifts for my dad

that can compare with pedro's first start in port st. lucie, even if it's just rehab.

of course, it will pale in comparison to pedro's first start in shea stadium, but that's a couple of weeks off, and it won't be his birthday anymore.

anyways, happy birthday, dad. and viva la pedro.

how i don't think i wanted to see the man behind the curtain

i'm really down with dvd extras, seeing how films were made, what decisions were made and what people thought about it.

but seeing and hearing the real people behind "family guy" really freaks me out.

how i'm gonna stand up on my sports pulpit

and offer my somewhat expert opinion on a couple of varied subjects.

1. METS ACQUIRE LUIS CASTILLO
i don't know how anyone can have a problem with this. we're getting a solid hitter in the two-hole with great speed and who makes contact, which makes him ideal to hit behind josejosejosejose...jose...jose, and he just so happens to sport a couple of gold gloves. and we barely gave up anything for him other than taking on his salary. look, i know some met fans want to see what ruben gotay's got to offer at second. but seriously, we got him for nothing in the offseason, and we were able to designate him for assignment a couple of months ago without anyone offering to pick him up. and now that's he's hitting, for what accounts for a brief stretch, does anyone really feel comfortable about him in the playoffs? honestly? he might turn out to be a nice player. but he's not one right now. castillo is a really good baseball player, and he's got two rings to his credit. he's a super upgrade over what we had hours ago. great job, omar. and thank you.

2. CELTICS TRADE FOR KEVIN GARNETT
a couple of years ago, the lakers augmented their duo of shaq and kobe with karl malone and gary payton, giving them four superstars in their starting lineup. the problem was that they only had one ball to share among four guys who demand it, and they wound up short of a championship, getting walloped by the pistons. now, the celts have three superstars, except instead of just matching them up without any foresight into what makes a team work, they're all unselfish. and they all seem to complement their skills extremely well. and they're all hungry for a championship. as a knicks fan, i don't like this one bit. still, are they gonna get their title? no. no way. the rest of their team just isn't up to it. yeah, they're gonna run all over the weak eastern conference, but then they'll get run over by another great three: nash, marion and amare. or duncan, parker and manu. or maybe just yao and t-mac. but it'll be a damn good run by three very likeable superstars who will prove that three great players can indeed play together greatly.

3. MICHAEL STRAHAN THREATENS RETIREMENT
i've never been as uninterested for the beginning of football season as i am right now. from tom coughlin being around to jerry reese making very little upgrades during his first offseason to watching eli not get any coaching yet again to no tiki to save us and now, to this, strahan bitchin' again about something. yeah, i'm gonna be there in front of the telly watching the g-men play the cowboys in the season opener on that sunday night, but let's face it, they're just not very likeable right now - especially strahan, who should be winding down and bathing in the final days of a legendary career, but instead, is going down like a spoiled brat. a really spoiled brat. one that's trying to swindle his team into helping him pay off his horrible divorce settlement. i'm just tired of it all, and the season is still a month away. great.

how i don't know what this is or what they're trying to accomplish

but i don't care, because this is friggin' bad ass. see what a little thought, creativity and a trampoline can accomplish?

the grape lady would howl with delight if she saw this.

how i'm betting on the retro revolution

which means that someday soon, just like vinyl records, tight jeans, vans slip-ons and mullets, the genius of this will be cool again. and the i-phone will weep jealously.

how i don't know whether to feel old or sad

but the new cover of "rolling stone" just made me realize that the standards for what is a truly superior american album begins right there.

an another note: pull it together, axl. enough already.

how i've been getting back into movies

which means i owe you some reviews. so here goes it:


starring seth rogen, katherine heigl, paul rudd, and leslie mann
written and directed by judd apatow
viewed at the amc van ness 1000, san francisco, ca

judd apatow's got it figured out. tell a story that people can relate to with characters significantly less than perfect, pepper it with jokes you haven't heard before from voices unique in their own stature, and then cast actors you don't really know so they can get into their characters without bringing their schtick into it.

i hope he never wavers, because i actually think "knocked up" is better than his previous, "the forty year old virgin", and anything else he's ever had a part in and trust me, that's saying a lot.

seth rogan is comedy gold. you believe him, you know him and he's made you laugh not only with him but at him. katherine heigl supplies the goods. i'm not a big paul rudd fan, but leslie mann's usually very good. and rogan's buddies are fantastic. maybe this movie went about fifteen minutes too long, but if you've ever been in a relationship, this movie hits you.

well played, apatow. well played.



starring homer, marge, bart and lisa
directed by david silverman
viewed at the century theater on market, san francisco, ca

at the end of this review, you're probably gonna come away with the impression that i hated it. trust me, i didn't hate it. i just wish it weren't burned out.

if this movie had been made years ago, let's say ten years ago, when each episode of "the simpsons" was biting, epic, gut-bustingly funny and provocative, could you imagine what an extended 90-minute story could have been like? it seemed like each episode, homer got into something you couldn't conceive. the plots took you to really strange places. there was nothing i'd rather watch.

nowadays, i have it tivoed, and i watch it intermittently. and when i do, i don't really laugh, i just say, "oh. that's funny." and as i watch the show, the plots seem familiar, and although it might make a slight detour, it winds up exactly where i thought.

i guess what i'm saying is that nowadays, "the simpsons" are tired but still enjoyable.

this movie felt tired.

and yet, it was also still enjoyable.



viewed at the red vic, san francisco, ca

in case you are of the uninitiated, this is a double-feature of "B" movies made by robert rodriguez and quentin tarantino that pay homage to the cheap exploitation films that leveraged sex, monsters, cars and drugs in their plots. they had very little artistic merit, and yet, fun as all get out.

and i got to watch it in the type of rundown theater it was meant to honor.

"PLANET TERROR"
starring the absolutely delicious rose mcgowan, freddy rodriguez, marley shelton and josh brolin
written and directed by robert rodriguez

rodriguez doesn't waste any time, as within the first five minutes, we're clearly in a zombie movie, and there's no lack of bloodshed, decapitation and gunplay throughout the remainder of the film. you want a plot? well, you try to piece it together. it's really just an exercise in how gory and ridiculous you can make a story. in fact, if you want to really get technical and scientific about it, the amount of plot in this story is inversely related to the amount of fun you'll have watching it.

seriously, i had a smile on my face throughout the whole thing. it was written to have terrible dialogue and predictable plot twists. it was meant to be ridiculous by any means necessary. the actors were directed to overdo it.

and it had zombies. bubbling, disgusting, saliving zombies.

if you've laughed, screamed and loved movies like "the texas chainsaw massacre" (the original by tobe hopper) or any pure slasher flicks from the 70s, then you'll love this.

i did.

"DEATH TRAP"
starring kurt russell, zoe bell, rosario dawson and tracie thorns
written and directed by quentin tarantino

tarantino took another route - this of a psycopathic killer on the loose. but instead of using a chainsaw or a machete as a weapon, this guy used his stunt car to kill hot chicks.

simple enough.

but as exciting as "planet terror" was, with the constant action and gore, this movie had a little too much tarantino. if the idea of these movies is to pay homage of these B movies, tarantino only meets it halfway. the plot is dead on. but the way he shot it and wrote it doesn't match up.

i mean, the writing is too good and too longwinded. the directing is too sophisticated. it's way too much, too thought out, too well done, for a genre of movies that was meant to be made quickly and shipped out even quicker.

so, i guess what i'm saying is that this movie needed to be crapped up.

what?

okay, but as it were, there's no real tangible storyline, and that's fine. it's all about making the best car chase ever, and in that respect, tarantino doesn't disappoint. in fact, it's downright exciting and hilarious. plus, the idea of casting actual stuntwomen in lead roles so they can provide their own stunts was a stroke of brilliance. it's not meant to be shakespeare in the park; it's "bullitt" in tennessee.

did i enjoy it? hell yeah. permanent smile on my face.

was it as good as "planet terror"? not for the genre.



taking them both in, for three and a half hours of film, it was damn well worth it. it's a great idea, really, down to the fantastic fake movie trailers between the films. of course, when it was out nationwide, it bombed. maybe the public didn't actually get it the idea behind it, but that's not necessarily the fault of the filmmakers.

it's a niche movie meant for niche moviegoers. it's not a date movie.

still, it's a helluva good time.

how i'd like to hear cousin brucie try to promo this

with the state of modern music as it is, i fully expect this to top the charts.

hey, it's better than most of the crap out there.

and please, wait about 20 seconds for his grand vocalization skillz to take hold.

how you better hope there aren't any cameras around when you have an unfortunate incident

if you haven't seen "the grape lady", then you just haven't lived.

and if you haven't heard her dance remix, goddamn, it'll kill you with laughter.

thank you, internet.

how i would like to congratulate someone i never met

this is the perfect opportunity for me to give my warmest thoughts and best wishes to "the schmoozer" steve somers on getting married this past weekend.

most sports personalities on the radio are just oversized blowhards with undersized intellects. but "the schmoozer" is cut from a different mold. not only is he smart, but he's also funny and engaging, and it helps that he's fanatical towards the mets, knicks and rangers.

he's got a legion of loyal listeners. even from 3000 miles away, through the magic of the internet, i still schmooze along.

so congrats, steverino.

i just hope they opened the ceremony WITH THIS!

"well, good evening to you and how ya be? At six fifty six and fifteen seconds on wednesday evening on the altar. steve somers here, his wife there. eddie robinson on the other side of the temple. one, seven one eight, nine three seven, six, six, six, six is the number to call for what will be a three hour schmooze until tony paige at 1 on the FAN...NEW YORK!"

how this is all about piling on

i'm sure you might have read about HBO's expose with steroid chemist patrick arnold as he claimed that there's no way barry bonds didn't take steroids.

i think, at this point, the media is just piling on.

let's be honest here:

1. bonds took steroids. just because the tools haven't been invented to catch what he did doesn't exonerate him. there's more than a mountain of circumstantial evidence to prove this.

2. the only people who really doubt this are ardent bonds fans, the uninformed, the misinformed and giants fans. usually, these people are one and the same.

3. all that being said, he's not a cheater. a cheater is someone who finds an unfair advantage over his opponents. in this case, he's not the only one who took steroids. in fact, more pitchers juiced up than batters. so by not doing it would have put him at a disadvantage. that's not excusing what he did. he just wasn't alone.

4. like i said, we know already.

i don't think this is news.

this is just the media finding another way to take a punch at bonds. he's about to break a record, albeit tainted, but instead of letting that be the story, they're just finding something else to ruminate about.

i'm just sick of it all.

how i'm back from los angeles

it's about twenty degrees colder, i'm tired from constantly thinking and stressing and i have friends in town, so sleeping will be at a minimum.

still, i've got a new pair of nikes and a bunch of stories that are better told than written.

however, there are stories that are better blogged, like the one about a beached whale in san francisco, or the one about the zombie outbreak in a philipine prison, or the one with the worst headline ever, or the one where john maine's improbable home run is recreated using MVP baseball 2005 or even the one about the worst water cooler conversation ever.

you see, i still got your back.

how the NBA will be in a no-win situation for a long time

the realization that the NBA had an official who may have fixed games is a complete nightmare for david stern, mostly because it's providing fodder for the majority of fans who believed that the refereeing was already shady to begin with.

now, there's proof.

when dwayne wade was awarded with foul after pseudo-phantom foul in the 2006 finals, when star players and the best teams were given beyond the benefit of the doubt when they didn't deserve it, when whistles were swallowed at random times (or at crucial moments), when certain notoriously favorable referees were called upon to officiate certain games in which it would benefit the league for playoff series to be extended, well, there's no shortage of conspiracy theories floating around, despite the denials.

what can david stern do? even though it might just be a solitary issue, the perception is that it's not. can the whole of them be incompetent? well, here's one that wasn't, so how about the rest, right?

how stringent can he further the existing officiating standards without making them robotic? aren't they already scrutinized?

and yet, despite the grading already in place, one was dirty. and they didn't know.

so, despite stern's dismissals, he can't point to his referee judging system anymore. that has failed. and despite his dismissals of crazy conspiracy theories, he's got a criminal investigation on his hands.

every questionable call from now on will be fixed, whether it is or not. every human judgment will be because there's money on the line, whether it is or not.

the wolves have a nice flesh of meat to chomp on.

from microfiber ballgate to the murderous all-star game weekend in vegas to a crappy finals that could have been averted by reseeding, the commish hasn't done a very good job running the league recently. now here's his biggest challenge, and for once, it's fair to ask if he's up to meet it.

how if this is what our political elections has come to, then i'm fine with it

vote obama. his supporters have the best tits.

i cringe about what rudy giuliani's supporters look like.

how these might be fakes, but then again, i don't care

just like how i love advertising for what it could be but loathe what it is, here's an example of my industry at its most hilarious.

and yes, it's clear that i do consider unintentional comedy to be the highest of art forms.

how i might have two new addictions, and i'm not wincing at all

i know this is an old show and series, but i just watched the first episode of "beauty and the geek" on the cw (whatever that means). it's insanely compelling and hilarious. i think it's gonna get old, but we'll see. another point: the beauties aren't really all that beautiful, but the geeks are at defcom geek level 113. and there's something endearing about that.

the other is "scott baio is 45 and single", which would be much better if they didn't pretend half the time. i mean, his agent's worried about the cameras following scott and how this might be a bad idea, but who do you think negotiated it? and there's a healthy dose of overacting during supposed intimate moments. i mean, they're going far out of their way to not notice the cameras. and it's annoying.

still, it's kinda interesting not only getting into his life, but also seeing how vulnerable he is. imean, it's not like he knows where this life coach will be taking him. there could be a ton of embarrassment ahead for him. but he's subjecting himself in this for the search of something good. and guess what? there's also something endearing here too, although he and his friends are classicly cliched los angeles douchebags.

how i'm officially jealous and anxious

now this is advertising done strategically, artistically and, most important, beautifully.

it gives me hope for what our industry could be.

and it makes me sad for what it would rather.

how i had a very productive weekend

six things i saw this weekend:
1. a seal in the pacific ocean
2. kelp on the sand
3. didier drogba on the attack
4. cows grazing peacefully
5. fireworks let off in the upper deck of a football stadium
6. the hard fall of a boxing idol

six things i learned this weekend:
1. didier drogba is an unbelievable athlete.
2. after 6pm on gameday, it costs $20 extra to get your car out of the parking garage on near the ballfield.
3. sunscreen should be in the glove compartment when you drive a convertible.
4. i would be very very very dangerous on "the world series of pop culture". very dangerous.
5. after watching the espys, lebron james has just got "it".
5. sometimes, a day alone is a day well spent.

how painful can be ironic can be funny

especially when it involves pamploma.

how as good as the best modern comedies may be

they still have a problem matching up with this classic.

god bless you, reverend jim.

how i just did it for the first time

here's my nike debut, courtesy from the brilliant directing by lance acord.

enjoy lebron's four videos. and pump your speakers up.

how i'm sure this is what p.diddy was thinking of when he started "vote or die"

please, i beg of you, head over to newsday's website and vote for keith hernandez over don mattingly in the battle of the mustaches.

you know nobody can touch mex's.

nobody.

how i think the money would have been better spent

as much as i appreciated the thought and the performances behind the "live earth" concerts, in which the main focus was to alert the world about global warming, i just got the feeling that all the money spent on transportation and cleanup and everything involved could have been spent more effectively on some lobbyists.

in an ideal world, our politicians listen to their populace, but this isn't an ideal world. this is the real world, and they couldn't care less. they really couldn't. you can protest all you want, but it matters very little to them.

the only thing a politician cares about are those who put them in office. and as much as we want to believe that it's votes, it's actually the money behind getting those votes. we're talking the corporations and special interests that donate the most to their causes.

if the fact of global warming expects any traction, it's gonna have to be made in the pockets of those who can make a change.

we can fool ourselves to believe that people will change the way they live. but honestly, that's a crock. we all know that we need to have things done for us for change to happen. we're gonna need our houses to be retrofitted green for us, our cars to be made environmentally friendly for us. it's too much effort for a large population to change for themselves, especially when their neighbors aren't.

so a lobbyist, the real change artists, seem to be the only route to making change happen because the only way a politician will do anything about this is by lining their pockets.

it's the only thing they listen to anyways.

it's a crappy way to look at the world, but it's the truth.

just saying.

how nothing's better than a joyous welcoming

i would like to be the first to welcome gabriel joseph canci into the world, and to our loving extended family.

you done good, mike and rachel. you done good.

how nothing's worse than a painful goodbye

some of you might remember that my friend edmund walshe was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a year ago, and he set up a website about his condition and a call for help.

yesterday, on july 3rd, edmund passed away peacefully at his home.

edmund dedicated most of his professional career finding jobs for developmentally disabled adults. if you knew him, even for just a moment, you'd realize that his job was just an extention, the true essense, of his heart and generosity. it's not an easy job. it's trying. it's rewarding, yes, but also disappointing. it takes an exceptional person.

a couple of years ago, however, he took a brave step, and finally doing something for himself, by moving in a completely different direction with his career by entering ad school, although at an advanced age. like most other industries, advertising is for young people with boundless energy, with eager hearts ready for countless rejections. it's not for someone in his early forties who had already spent most of his life in the grind and was essentially starting over.

i was his teacher. he was a fantastic student. and although he had ten years seniority of life on me, he never disrespected that. in fact, he was amazing in always wanting to learn more, always asking, always working while always making the situation comfortable. trust me, it took a mature person to thrive in that situation.

in fact, it took an exceptional person.

i was not alone in that assesment.

not only did he get through school, but he did it well, extremely well. and, in the process, helped by post-class beer drinking escapades, we became friends, good solid friends, way beyond the teacher/student relationship that it was formed from.

when he got a job in seattle, i was happy for him, despite the empty bar stool on my right. oh well.

eventually, i had the opportunity to freelance up there, at his agency, and he and his wife, parks, welcomed me into their new city and into their favorite bars and their new home, always with a joke and a cold beer at the ready. nothing less was to be expected.

a year later, when they moved back to san francisco, i was elated. and i knew this amazing city was about to become an ever finer place with its newest resident.

but then, as we met up for more drinks in more random bars and made plans for doing it again, the cancer intervened. those plans became hopes. and, instead of elbowing up a the bars, we would be meeting up at barbeques, along with overflowing crowds gathered in tribute of him. at those times, although his body might have been failing, his incendiary humor and his good soul never wavered.

that's what i'm gonna miss from my good friend, edmund walshe. that's what we'll all miss. there never was a soul that deserved better than what the last year gave him, and yet, never let it be known.

and, although there's very little solace in that empty bar stool to my right, again, i do know that wherever the afterlife takes us, i'm sure it's a finer place today with its newest resident.

he proved that many times over.

i'm really gonna miss you, buddy.

if anyone knew him, there will be a memorial service on sunday, june 8th at 2 pm in the interfaith chapel in the presidio in san francisco.

how i forgot that this has been up for awhile, so here you go

here's the first thing i've done for akqa that's dropped on the asian-pacific region, and we are all witnesses indeed.

it only took a day to concept and conceive. not so bad, eh?

you know, as long as you judge it on the time it took.

how this could be the best response ever (and god bless the intertubes)

i'm sure most of you who have been hanging out on this here world wide web has seen the incredibly bizarre "pretty ricky late night special" video that, well, umm...i guess it's as tasteless (if you consider couch humping to be tasteless) as it is uncomfortably hilarious (if you consider a video of teenagers humping a couch to be hilarious). and you only really need to watch thirty seconds of it to really get the point, of which there is none.

anyways, this was posted as a response to that video, and if they gave out awards for youtube responses, the makers would have to clear some space in their trophycase.

it's just brilliant stuff i'm jealous of.

how i'm so proud of my beautiful little niece

she cut her first tooth this week.

congrats, ava rose. i knew you could do it.

how if you can find money to kill people, you can find money to help people

that's a quote from the michael moore movie "sicko", and it's a good way to start my review.


written, directed and produced by michael moore
viewed at the vogue theater, san francisco, ca

now, many of you know that i have a well-deserved reservoir of emnity towards healthcare companies. this movie stoked that. because, like most everything in the world, businesses that make decisions purely based on the bottom line are businesses that make bad decisions. but it's so much worse, so profoundly evil when healthcare companies do that because the product they're skimping on is getting people healthy.

so they are jeopardizing the health of their customers to save some money.

in fact, they actually go out of their way to make you feel worse.

you can't debate that point, whether or not you like michael moore. all you need is one "denial of claim" to realize the horrors of their practices. fucking assholes, all around.

the point of this movie, and most of his movies, is that a country as great as america should be ashamed of her self-imposed and refused-to-be-fixed faults. "roger and me" is about america's addiction to greed and the effects it has on the helpless. "bowling for columbine" is about american government's manipulation of the media to impose fear on its citizens to control them. "fahrenheit 911" is about how the american government's ties are much more important to them than the people they defend.

in this case, it's a disgrace that a country like america has so little concern for the welfare of its citizens. and that's a reflection of the politicians from each party that are indebted to those who put them in power - the healthcare companies.

sicko isn't about the people. it's about the system in place.

and that system sucks - especially when you compare it to other countries.

as usual, moore takes extreme examples to tell that story, and that's really what rankles people. whether it's catching charlton heston on a bad day with fancy editing or surprising the CEO of GM at his front door, his methods and evidence always come across as somewhat loose at worst, circumstantial at best.

but that doesn't mean that his points aren't solid.

they are. they truly are.

and his facts seem to be almost dead-on.

also, although he paints the healthcare systems of other countries as perfect, they are far from that. the point is that their ideals are, although the details might not be. still, to be fair, for an opposing view, here's an interesting article refuting moore's claims. to each their own, and to watch a movie with just the filmmaker's point of view deserves a counterpoint.

but you know where i stand.

how the finest actor of our generation has decided to branch out

and here's a bunch of clips from six of his newest films:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6.

how i just experienced the best thing i've ever heard on a bus

and i have to publicly thank timothy taylor of 30th avenue for it.

thank you, timothy taylor.

let me backtrack: i'm on my bus, going home after work. the bus is not overly crowded, but crowded. every seat is taken. i'm reading my book, and mostly everyone is in their own little world. but it is a quiet ride.

mr. taylor decides this would be a fantastic time to break that silence and make a phone call. fine. you know, you'd hope that people would have enough couth and respect to not do that. but that's expecting too much from people nowadays.

and now, it's commonplace.

but i digress.

so mr. taylor called ticketmaster and was asking about packages for the all-star weekend being held here in san francisco. beyond the game, there's a bunch of fan friendly conventions going on, and he wanted two tickets. he asked how quickly he would be able to get his tickets. they said he'd have to retrieve them at the will-call window at the ballpark (i know this, because i could hear her on the other line). he said he'd rather have the tickets sent to him. she said they could only do overnight until monday, and he would have to be there to pick them up; they wouldn't leave it. he said he works and wouldn't be able to be there for them. she mentioned that maybe they could send the tickets to his office. he thought that would be a nice idea.

the tickets cost $54. shipping and handling (including overnight delivery) would cost an extra $19. he did not like this. how much would it cost if i picked them up at will-call? well, just $4. so i would be saving $15 if i did not have them delivered? yes. and that would cost me....$58? yes that would be correct.

okay, i'll do that then.

at this point, my mouth is opened, because, on a crowded bus, full of people who have been listening to his voice because it's the only noise that we hear, he says, and i quote...

"my credit card number is 5424..."

and on he went.

mr. taylor, thank you for your idiocy, and setting a new low for the rest of the world to meet.

how i don't get isiah thomas, and because of him, i'm losing my childhood team

upon the knicks trading for zach randolph to play next to eddy curry, this was my first (and still correct) reaction:

we now have two low post scorers who can’t pass the ball out of a double team, and a roster full of players who can’t, won't or don’t know how to feed them.

it's a great deal in fantasy basketball, but the worst possible idea in constructing a team that needs to play together. it makes no sense at all.

we're getting bigger and slower in a league that's getting quicker and smaller. we're matching our center who still hasn't played a lick of defense in his career with a defensively indifferent power forward. also, he's a social malcontent who's been in and out of trouble, and we're dropping him in the biggest city in the world. and we're limiting the playing time of david lee, the one player on the roster who did everything you need to win. and we don't have an outside shooter to take the congestion out of the lane to give them room to operate.

yep.

this really isn't that difficult, isiah. in fact, it's common sense.

it really is.

duh.

because of the sucker in the luxury box, i'm questioning my love for the blue and orange.

i can't believe i just typed that.

how i'm pretty sure this will be the end of professional wrestling

i haven't written anything about the whole chris benoit tragedy, so here goes it.

for people who don't really know wrestling, i'll give you an analogy: if you heard that axl rose murdered his wife and child and then killed himself, you would shrug your head and say, "well, that's axl".

this wasn't axl. in the world of pro wrestling, chris benoit was bono.

so imagine bono doing all that, and you've got why this is even more shocking.

there's going to be tons of coverage about steroids in wrestling and how the wwe's wellness program is really just a weak first step in cleaning it up. and once the ignorant claims of roid rage (which happens over five minutes and doesn't prolong over an entire weekend), the dark and creepy underside of the world of wrestling - the unfettered drug use, the psychological and physical demands of being on the road, the injuries, the strain of keeping in superhuman shape - will be uncovered. and these performers will be lumped together, deserved or not.

and now, beyond the limits of reality and taste that wrestling goes, everything they will do from now on will be even more tainted, as the one guy who nobody questioned, the one guy who seemed like the paragon of what was prideful, was a guy who did the unspeakable. and if he was capable of that, then how could you look at the ones you can't stomach?

i don't think this is a tidal wave that professional wrestling will be able to wade through, especially with ultimate fighting gaining popularity by the minute.

still, it was a good ride.

how i've been meaning to post this

but i've been really busy at work and just haven't had the time.

but now that i do have a second, i feel like jose reyes waiting for shawn green at home plate after his walkoff home run to beat the cardinals.

it's never a bad thing to feel like jose.

how i am a big fan of my governator

even when he's at his most stressed.

yeah, i voted for this guy. and i'd vote for him again.

how those who don't think advertising is an art form need to take a look at this

people throw the word "art" around very easily, even though there are very few things in the world that are truly "artistic".

i mean, people call music "art", but is it really? listen to all the crap that out there. that's not art; it's commerce.

hell, it's the same for film. movie companies throw out so much crap for the sake of a dollar without any care or thought to any artistic integrity. "RV" is not art. sorry. that's commerce.

it's the same for painting and writing and anything else considered an "art" form. just because you write something down doesn't make it art. it's a chemical reaction.

my point is that very little of it is actually art. only a very few of it actually is. "art" is actually a pinnacle. everything else is just filler.

taking in all that, people don't consider advertising in any form to be artistic, and i can't figure out why. the same standards hold up. much like music and film, 97% of what you see is crap. commerce. insulting.

there's no difference, no difference at all.

but that 3%? hot damn.

this viral film for dove won the palme d'or in cannes. if your thoughts aren't provoked and your soul isn't stirred, then maybe you should rethink what art is.

how i hope this review will just be about an aberration

i can't believe it took me close to two months to get around to seeing this:


spider-man 3
starring tobey maguire, kirsten dunst, james franco and thomas haden-church
directed by sam raimi
written by alvin sargent
viewed at the metreon imax screen, san francisco, ca

it breaks my heart to admit that the spider-man movie series finally (and sadly) lost its way.

the first two movies were really great. like, really really great. there was such a rich humanity in both of them that, although none of us are superheros, we can relate to the man who was. that was the magic of those spidey comic books that mesmerized me during my youth - all in all, peter parker was just a teenaged kid going through some pretty heavy stuff, the least of which was being bit by a radioactive spider.

and in the first two movies, even the villains, although over-the-top, had a human element to them. norman osborn was a power-hungry scientist that took performance enhancements that drove him crazy (although the real emotional heft in this storyline was manifested in the jealous and vindictive relationship between his son and peter parker).

doc ock was another scientist who was involved in a failed fusion accident that took the life of his beloved wife, and drove him in such a rage that he dedicated his own life to finish the experiment, the world be damned.

you have some of that in this one, too. the sandman was also involved in a scientific accident, but there was a humanity in what made him a villain. after all, he was just a man who made the wrong decisions in an effort to raise money for his sick child.

you don't have to agree with their mindsets, but it's clear where they were coming from. they were humanized.

if they stuck to that, i would have loved it. again, a relatable movie.

but the main focus, or so it seemed, was the black alien venom that overcame spidey, that amplified his bad qualities. the whole storyline seemed forced, from how he coincidentally contracted that, to how it affected him, to his emo haircut, to how it coincidentally found its way to peter parker's enemy - it was just too much. it didn't fit in the series. it just didn't work at all. too many coincidences. too many forced qualities.

it was one storyline too much, and not worth the time.

otherwise, i dug it. the fight scenes were fantastic. and it looked tremendous in most parts. and it still kept much of the charm from the previous two movies.

but the sheen is off, and my heart is breaking.

how it sure wasn't danger mouse on that cd

i'm down with the whole mashup craze. in fact, one of my favorite albums is "the grey album" by danger mouse, as he took jay-z's "the black album" and mixed it with the beatles' "white album".

beyond that it was gorgeous music, there were two strong concepts behind it. first off, taking icons from the 60s and mixing them with an icon from today. and there's the second, which is how neatly the colors of their albums matched up.

why am i bringing this up? my cabbie was playing a cd of maships tonight during ride home from the movie theater. and they sucked.

as soon as i got in, i was treated with "you're the one that i want" - yep, from "grease" - but mashed-up with doctor dre and snoop dogg.

ummm....what?

to break it down further, olivia newton john + john travolta + the guys who brought you "nuthin' but a 'g' thang" = not really working. actually, it would have been a complete disaster if not for snoop dogg. his voice and flow sounds so great over practically anything that he could take something that doesn't fit (like this) and get it to almost work.

almost.

okay, so that happened. the next mashup was, i shit you not, "pop musik" (pop, pop...pop music) mixed with (i can't believe i'm about to type this) "bring the noise" by public enemy. so i listened to a synthesized song about, well, pop music, but with lyrics about minister louis farrakhan.

yeah, that didn't work either.

my point? it was nothing like this cab ride from years past.

how i dread seeing the talent competition

make sure you take the time to vote for the world's ugliest dog at the sonoma-marin fair 2007.

personally, i'm an elwood guy.

how the funniest thing i've seen in months

is just five seconds long.

perfect. and i think the gerbil did it.

how this doesn't come close to lou costello's version of jacqui's soliloquiy in "as you like it"

ladies and gentlemen, the shakespearean rendition now called "who's on primary".

alas, riotus.

how in a different context, some things take on a greater meaning

there's an octogenarian singing group based in new england that performs modern rock songs on stage. seriously. stop laughing. once you get past the novelty, it's actually a quite tender concept. if you live out there, they're called "young at heart" (except with the "at" symbol replacing the spelled out "at" - damn you, blogger).

anyway, here's one of them singing "fix you" by coldplay.

as one of the commentors posted, the song is usually chris martin singing about the future.

however, this version by "youngatheart" was supposed to be a duet. but one of the singers died of a heart attack weeks before the performance. so the lead carried on and sang the song by himself, and without changing any words, it became a reflection about missing people in your lives by someone who has lived his life through.

it's really poignant.

here's them singing "schizophrenia" by sonic youth. i betcha thurston moore and kim gordon really dig it.

and here's a video of them singing "i want to be sedated" by the ramones, although it comes off as really cheesy, to be honest.

still, i wish there were more out there.

how i am both scared and intrigued by utah

here's a great story about an athlete from BYU who got into an argument with another pedestrian that led into...wait for it, wait for it...a jousting match involving mops.

weird.

even weirder? the provo police captain's name is cliff argyle. and the BYU cross country coach is named ed eyestone.

the player? moppy mopalot.

okay, that last one was false. or was it?

how i'm falling in love with a british-jewish r&b singer with a huge drinking problem

if you haven't listened to amy winehouse and her album "back to black", just channel sarah vaughn with the supremes and see where that takes you.

or just watch her two videos, "rehab" and "you know i'm no good", and let your jaw drop.

listen to them at your own risk. contents are addictive.

how i'm not supposed to laugh

and i'm not sure how this will make me look by typing this, but i have msnbc on right now, and for the first time ever, i'm watching "dateline: to catch a predator". it's disturbing stuff, i gotta admit. yet i'm kinda laughing right now.

okay, i'm not laughing at pedophilia or statutory rape. obviously. let's get that straight. that's not a laughing matter. i know.

but i am laughing how suave and calm chris hansen is when he reads the disgusting dialogue back at these pervs, as if he's reading back supreme court testimony.

and i am laughing at these pervs and all their excuses, and the emaculated look on their faces as they sit there, knowing they've been caught and not being bright enough to get away with it, and how they've never done this before, oh no, sir, this is the first time, i swear.

and i'm laughing when they try to bargain with hansen for some reason, being that he's just a well-dressed man with a clipboard.

i mean, it's not funny, seriously it's not, but...

maybe it's just this batch of pervs.

yes, it's probably just these pervs.

don't think less of me.

i'm never watching this again.

how i've been slacking with my posts

been busy. so sue me.

here's some links to help you get over it, such as:

- a guy who sinks 70 shots in 35 seconds in pop-a-shot.

- he should meet up with this lebron etch-a-sketch genius.

- a ten-minute chronological look at plane crash in "lost".

- an idiot who drives his prius into the n-judah tunnel in cole valley.

- triumph the insult comic dog at the tony awards for him to poop on.

i hope this makes us square.

how tiger woods turns sport on its head

sports is a way for us to watch amazing people do amazing things. we follow teams, game in and game out, to see what they will do, to see if they can pull it off. to see if they can perform miracles on athletic fields.

amazing people doing amazing things.

but then there's tiger woods who, along with roger federer, is the most dominant athlete of this generation. when he is in the hunt for a major championship, like he was on sunday in the u.s. open, just one stroke behind the leader with one hole to go, it's absolutely must-watch theater. he's one of the few athletes you can't peel your eyes away from.

the difference is that you want to see if he doesn't win.

let me rephrase that: you want to see him win, because with each win, he gets closer to jack nicklaus, and he's given us no reason not to like her.

but he is so dominant, that the drama is to watch him not pull it off. the idea of him losing is so inconceivable, so unbelieveable, the idea that tiger woods can't win, that he can't pull off the possible, that when he doesn't, like he didn't on sunday, now that's mindblowing.

truly amazing.

that is theater.

and that is just amazing, to see if he can't.

there's nobody else out there like that. most people want to see the yankees lose, or floyd mayweather to get his head knocked in. that's a different story.

tiger woods, he's a different animal.

how maryhanks_2007@libero.it thinks i'm a winner

i am a lucky lucky lucky man to be endowed with winning a lottery such like this, although what doesn't come with my prizes are classes to improve your spelling and grammar.

then again, with all my winnings, i don't need to lern how to spel or rite goode.

yes yes, i am a winner.

bow before me.

verified by an actual e-mail from an actual something:

ATTENTION WINNER!!!

Your participation for this Online loterij was selected from your e-mail domain and your e-mail luckily won a raffle ticket that entered you for this year draw held at the Headquaters today. You have therefore been approved to legally claim a total sum of One Million Euros(1,000.000.00 Euros.).Your e-mail address was attached to a Ticket Number:1327795, Batch: TL/0534/30/06 Reply To file for your claim, please forward the following information(s)below ;

(i) FULL NAMES.
(ii) CITY, STATE AND COUNTRY OF RESIDENCE.
(iii) DIRECT PHONE/FAX NUMBER (STATE PREFERED TIME TO CALL).
(iv) OCCUPATION
(v) BATCH NUMBER

Congratulations from all members and staffs of dayzers loterij promotion.

Best Regards,
Mrs Mary Hanks.

how it's been awhile since alter ego steve has made his presence felt

yes, the world-roaming yacht-sailing casanova who mistakenly gives my e-mail address to women across the world has struck again.

new, from some lovelorn lass named kristi smith who lives in a city with a port:

Hi love,

Here's my flight information.

As far as renting a car, we actually switched out of the mustang b/c my dad said he rented one in Miami and the car rides terrible and all we would do is complain, so i'm not quite sure what car were getting now.

In any case, we are still renting a car so we don't need you to pick us up, however, i will need directions from the airport to your house, if you can email me that i would really appreciate it..thanks! :)

I'm so excited!! Can't wait to see you!! :)

xo,
Kristi

how i'm gonna cut to black at the end of this post

nothing has caused as much uproar today than the finale of "the sopranos". hell, even paris hilton admired the hoopla.

anyways, as always, people are complaining about it. and it figures, because the people who complain about it are the people who have no frigging idea what the series was about.

after 86 episodes, most people still think it's somewhere between "donnie brasco" and "goodfellas", jean claude van damme and freddie kreuger, quentin tarantino and tobe hooper. they think it's blood and guts and pepperoni. of course, it's never ever ever been anything close to that. it's just what people want it to be. it's everything they've already seen before, over and over and over again.

simply, they want "the sopranos" to be "cleaver".

but that's entirely not what the best dramatic series ever made was created to be. it's about mob boss tony soprano, and the unsettling dichotomies of his life: his family at home and his family at work, trying to do right while continuing to do wrong, dealing with his mommy issues while being the head of a crime family. he just happened to be in the mafia. he could've been a corporate executive, but a mob boss was just so much more interesting. but no matter what his profession was, it's about how life doesn't always resolve itself, how life might be unrewarding, how life is always left unsettled.

this last season wasn't about new york against new jersey in a bloody battle for mafia supremacy. no, it was about tony dealing with all these issues in his life, right after almost losing his own. going through each episode this season, he dealt with his mortality, his perceptions, his paranoia, his vices, his fatherhood, his relief, his anger and his fear. after all, the premise was about a mobster going to therapy to deal with what's going on, right? the ducks made him feel sad. he wanted to talk about it. he went to therapy. and from there, we began to see how unsettled his life really was.

and, in the finale, he settled everything.

he gave paulie his just due.
he realized that meadow's choice of career was perfect.
he was finally able to put a.j. in the right path (for now).
he made his peace with silvio.
he made an allegiance with agent harris.
he said his peace with his sister.
he and carmela were not perfect, but about as tight as they can possibly get.
he realized that uncle junior was suffering a fate far worse than a bullet can give.
he told off a therapist.
he got his revenge on phil leotardo.

hell, the people who are complaining about how open-ended the finale just don't get it. who's the head of the new york crime family? who cares. what's gonna happen to A.J? doesn't matter. what about the indictments? irrelevant.

it's all about how tony deals with stuff. and, in the finale, he dealt with them all.

always was about that. never changed. and it stayed true.

like i said, it's the only show in the history of television that people avidly follow and have absolutely no idea what they're watching.

it's amazing, really.

and that last scene, oh that last scene. well, david chase is damned if he does and damned if he doesn't, isn't he? i mean, if he kills tony, then the people who want him alive will bitch about it. and if he doesn't kill him, then vice versa. and the people who are complaining for some sort of definite answer just really wanted to see brains spilling out of ears, whether they were tony's or a.j.'s or who else's.

but, instead, in the most dramatic scene ever written, acted, edited and directed, we are made to feel tony's life, how everyone could be a killer, how even a nice simple dinner at a diner could be something rich in horror and complexity, and how no matter tony wants to look at his life, there's nothing but death or prison to look forward to.

and when we suddenly cut to black, we don't know whether it was just meadow coming through the front door or cold hard murder. so...if you want him dead, so be it. if you want him alive, it's all you.

you know, it's a dichotomy.

in the past three weeks, we've seen chrissy dead from a bloody car accident, tony curbing a guy on the base of a toilet, bobby bacala killed in the best filmed murder scene ever, silvio comatose from a bullet-ridden attack and phil leotardo's helmet blasted and crushed, and people wanted more? seriously?

so as the fans of "cleaver" sit back and gripe about how nothing was resolved though bloodshed and decapitation, i'm just gonna sit back and soak in how awesomely they settled just about everything, a perfect ending for a series about how the dichotomies of life can make you unsettled.

and for the record, i think he's dead. after all, tony told bobby bacala all about it while fishing that “when it all ends, you never see it coming, it goes to black and silence...”

cut to black.

how this may or may not be a double feature i'd be intererested in

from sfgate.com.

Coming to a theater near you: As of Friday, the Balboa's marquee will feature "The Rape of Europa" and "Knocked Up."

only in san francisco.

how this is my 1,000th post

i would like to thank everyone who's read all of them, some of them, a couple of them or just one of them.

i don't know why i write this blog. i get nothing out of it other than the counter keeps moving up, and although i don't know who's reading, i do hope that they're laughing.

so, it is with great pride that i give you something that raised unintentional comedy to the highest art form: "welcome to my home" with brenda dickson, parts one and two.

it's everything that the internet was invented for. and it's the high bar this blog will aim for in the next thousand posts.

enjoy. and thank you.

how it's safe to go back into the water

Hello,

Your blog has been reviewed, verified, and cleared for regular use so that it will no longer appear as potential spam. If you sign out of Blogger and sign back in again, you should be able to post as normal. Thanks for your patience, and we apologize for any inconvenience this has caused.

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we now return to your regularly scheduled sarcasm.