Interesting.


Heart of Glass


What is Your Heart REALLY Made of?
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And thank you very much Quizilla for putting that song in my head. [Via Ben Kepple.]

Everyone's crazy but me and thee...

...and sometimes I have my doubts about you.

James Bowman on the quadriennial entertainment of the LaRouche campaign, and why it's not substantively different from the campaigns for people we don't necessarily think of as having lost their minds.

Why I hate the Oscars.

Sean Penn? Sean freakin' Penn gets best actor for that one-each by-the-numbers pot boiler? Worse, Tim Robbins collects yet another undeserved award for his tics and grimaces. Charlize Theron's best actress role: lesbian, check. Serial killer, check. Uglied up for the role, checkcheckcheck. Guaranteed Oscar bait. And finally, the "we realize we fucked up two years running so here's every Oscar you've been nominated for this year, no matter how undeserving the film in question may have actually been" series of make-up Oscars for Return of the King. (For my money, the most egregious of these was the soundtrack award to Howard Shore.)

I regret it every damn time I break my standing rule not to watch this massive waste of time.

Here's the WWI flying ace...


You are Snoopy!


Which Peanuts Character are You?
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Those who know me are laughing about the "sheer joy for life" line. They can, of course, bite me.

(Via Bill McCabe.)

I do swear a lot.

You're The Catcher in the Rye!

by J.D. Salinger

You are surrounded by phonies, and boy are you sick of them! In an
ongoing struggle to search for a land without phonies, you end up running away from
everything, from school to consequences. In this process, you reveal that many people
in your life have suffered torments and all you really want to do is catch them as
they fall. Perhaps using a baseball mitt. Your biggest fans are infamous
psychotics.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

"Phonies" is harsh. (Via Mike Toole.)

I really don't know why this stuff catches me off-guard.

Roger Ebert's just weird. I was reading his review of "Welcome to Mooseport" (his is one of the very few positives), and ran across this:

We question that such a naive and innocent town could exist in America, and are almost relieved to find that the movie was shot in Canada. Has it seemed to you lately that Canada is the last remaining repository of the world Norman Rockwell used to paint?

No, Rog, it hasn't, and you really need to get out of Chicago more.

Strictly from Dixie.

Via Farm Accident Digest, the Yankee or Dixie quiz. I scored a solid 68% to the Dixie side; would probably have been more definitively Dixie but for the fact that my parents moved up to Chelmsford, Mass. for a little over a year when I was learning to talk. So I drawl a bit, but I do it very quickly.

Shillin' for George.

It's a fulltime job.

Ryne McClaren, an otherwise excellent blogger, defends the indefensible:

And is it just me or is there something sort of sick about the mind of John Henry here, whining about the Yankees acquiring a player that Boston was also chasing? It's as if he believes that a second set of rules should apply to the Yankees, just because they're not drowning in their own half century of embarassment.

I think it's more that he's pissed that there's already a second set of rules for the Yankees.

"There is really no other fair way to deal with a team that has gone so insanely far beyond the resources of all the other teams," Henry said in an e-mail to reporters.

This coming from the man who wrote the checks for baseball's third highest payroll last year.

The difference between poor ol' John Henry's club last year and the 2003 World Champion Marlins? Only $48,112,879 bones.

The difference between 2003 Champs and Steingrabber's also-rans: about $100M. Hmm.

This year, John-boy is going to drop $125.1 million on the boys in Beantown.

So John Henry, spare me the crocodile tears, m'kay?

"The Yankee payroll will account for approximately 9.6% of total MLB payroll in 2004." Can you possibly think this is a good thing for the game as a whole? Or does that just not matter?

Responded Steinbrenner: "Unlike the Yankees, he chose not to go the extra distance for his fans in Boston."

And so continues the history of the Yankees and their whipping boys to the north.

There's that sweet-natured joshing that's made Yankee and Yankeefan alike beloved throughout the baseball nation.

Required reading for Mets fans.

Mike Toole* captures the exquisitely ironic joy of Metsochism : Arod's timeline as a New York Met.

*Huge thanks to Sheila O'Malley for recommending Mike Toole's blog in the first place.

James Cameron looming threateningly on the horizon of history once again.

That's a long-winded way of saying I hate Titanic.

Anyway, this is what the King of the World is contemplating: a 'fictionalized' story about the destruction of Pompeii taken from Charles Pellegrino's Ghosts of Vesuvius, which is non-fiction. But this is what has me worried:

Variety says that the Lightstorm trio will sift through the book to create a fictionalized account, which likely will tie into the politics of Rome, an empire whose demise may have been hastened by the devastation of Vesuvius.

Er, probably not. That's like assuming the US government would collapse if a hurricane took out the Hamptons.

Al Leiter feels my pain.

Probably more keenly than I do, actually. I can tune it all out if I have to.

"I find it curious that this was a deal that somehow only the Yankees could get done," Leiter said yesterday from his home in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. "I mean, any team, or any team with the financial ability -- and there are more than a few -- would gladly spend $16 million a year to get Alex Rodriguez, as great a player as he is."

Leiter was referring to the financial burden the Yankees will assume when all the money changes hands and questioned how a tentative deal with the Red Sox was not approved while this one was.

Well, that's the multi-million dollar question, now, isn't it? My own case of sour grapes aside, the whole thing reeks of bad faith. Every time Selig opens his mouth I see George Steingrabber's fingers moving in the back of his throat.

[A]t least before he was buried away down in Texas. Now he's just a few miles away across the river in the Bronx, and we get to hear about his exploits all the time.

"I don't think salt in the wound describes it enough. It's more like rubbing salt, and then pouring hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol and rust in there at the same time."

Yeah. Just like that. But lemon juice instead of hydrogen peroxide.

The insolence of office.

Ian Hamet rails against the boobs in T-Mobile's customer service department, saving me the trouble of considering them for my next cell contract.

Better and better.

The Yankees don't just get ARod, they get him cheap:

Rangers - 3 years/$140M
Yankees - 7 years/$120M.

Yeah. The great thing about baseball is it's so fair.

Yankee pact with Satan all but confirmed.

Announcement any day now.

Bubba Ho-Tep DVD

Due out May 25.

Sheila's going to be pissed.

Nothing like a good literary dust-up: modern Irish writer Roddy Doyle declares that James Joyce 1) could have used a good editor on Ulysses, 2) wasn't Ireland's best writer, and 3) that his reading 3 pages of Finnegan's Wake was a "tragic waste of time". And hilariously, he chose a Joyce birthday celebration to air his views.

[Via the Creator of Worlds.]

This is why I read Farm Accident Digest.

For quotes like this:

"That evil, uncaring man daring to act like he doesn't want to blender up all those common folk into a slurry prized by the rich for its ability to enhance the look of caviar when viewed through a monocle."

Envy me again.

Bubba Ho-Tep comes to Dayton.

Shake your groove thang.

Hilarious AICN spoiler-riddled review of 'street dance' movie "You Got Served" here. (Again, though, it's hard to spoilerize a film when you can smell the stench coming off the premise months in advance.)

More fun than a barrel of Gaugins.

Mr. Picassohead. View my artistic genius here.

(via Midwest Conservative Journal.)