The expert speaks again Or The shame of rarely posting...

Lordy, lordy, Catfish needs to get a-postin’ more.

Busy times lately... no longer able to blame much on moving either, that was three weeks ago.
Been kickin’ it on the new (old?) porch with the General and DJJ, good times all around. The new quote book is getting really foul really quickly, which is again good times all around.
As far as my self-proclaimed blogging topics, though, not too much has grabbed me to write about in particular, so let’s go on a general trip through music, politics, humor, sports and beer.

Music, well, the shows dry up here in the summer and I backed off my interest in seeing the Flatlanders because it’s just real hard to get a Saturday off work. As for new music that’s really grabbed me, well it’s still Modest Mouse and Wilco and Doughty, so no real change over the past few months anyway. With the move I’ve been throwing in some old favorites, picking cds at random off the shelf and delving deep once again into old mixes made by friends... but none of that really seemed all too exciting.

Politics are certainly heating up, but at this point in time there’s little that bears commenting on. I thought about posting on the news that the income gap grew tremendously over the past 20 years, or that the tax burden has shifted from the wealthy to the middle class during Bush’s presidency, or the launch of re-written overtime rules designed to fuck over workers, but all that shit is too depressing. I thought about posting about the disgusting Swift Boat Vets group and they’re blatant, though maddeningly effective, lies, but that’s too disgusting. I thought about posting on the real root of the Kerry campaign’s over-reliance on the Vietnam hero theme and how the incumbent is by nature doing nothing but playing defense against the incumbent, even while the incumbent’s record is piss poor, but that’s over my head really in the whole grand scheme of political analyses.

As for humor, I have been watching a lot more comedy of late, but I can’t just get away with saying the Chapelle’s Show, Reno 911 and Mr. Show are freaking hilarious. I covered Dodgeball, and Harold and Kumar really just fails to make the cut (not enough weed in a weed comedy).

These days are terrible time for sports, as far as I’m concerned. The D’backs are so far in the damn cellar I’ve stopped even peeking at the box scores. The playoff race is still too far away to reall start heating up. The mildly exciting NBA trade fury is over with, preseason NFL is an enormous crock and try as I might, I can’t give much of a damn about anything in the Olympics other than the long, high and triple jumps. And of course those are shown on the TV for a cumulative five minutes, so is it really worthwhile?

The Olympic competition (to be fair, the Olympics as televised) are such a bummer because it starts with such a great notion - athletes from nations across the world gathering to compete athletically. If that’s the case, why is it so damn boring? The “featured” competitions are always swimming and diving and gymnastics (or the winter counterpart of figure skating) and they just bore the hell out of me. Yeah, it’s incredible how some people can make their bodies do such weird flipping and shit, but anything that depends on a subjective scoring system bothers me. I’m not saying any more these days that they’re not sports (too argumentative), but they depend on some story line and it’s just fake to me. Swimming, well, it’s just a bunch of people swimming and it’s hard to tell who is who, so, well, blah.
But, as a former triple jumper myself (he says, arrogantly), I love that triple jump. And the sprints and a good deal else of track & field. Pretty much all of it but the really long distance events. But the television just ruins it.
So there. That’s the Olympics. And sport.

And beer, it’s your best friend, you drink a lot of it.

Thank you for playing,
Catfish

Simplistic nonsense as a badge of honor?

So how does a female (apparently) Asian (apparently) journalist get really famous? By unexpectely pandering to the legion of hacks dominated by white middle-aged men. “Look,” they say, “Now we’re right because one of them thinks so too!”
And her books, the latest one a drool-inducing wet dream for xenophobes nation-wide called “In Defense of Internment: The Case for ‘Racial Profiling’ in World War II and the War on Terror” just sail off the shelves.
Just as her blonde, thinks-she’s-pretty counterpart has done, Michelle Malkin carved her niche by bucking conventional wisdom and giving the Roscoe P. Coltrane crowd a like-thinking supporter, seemingly from the other side.
And boy does Malkin rake her fellow minority journalists over the coals. Oh man, what self-respecting Asian woman could possibly agree with her life-long liberal ideals any more after Malkin shows her the true way? The stupid white men really are right! Who would have guessed?

Anyway, without further mockery, here’s Malkin’s “media diversity test,” with her statements in bold and my replies following:

1. I have never voted for a Democrat in my life.
In just a few elections, I’ve managed to vote Democrat, Republican and Green. Why can’t I make up my mind? Why am I so wishy-washy? Damned independent voter, learning about candidates and selecting the best one for the job. C’mon. Voting a straight party ticket is stupid. We need more independent voters not less. I may not agree with a lot of Jim Kolbe’s positions, but as one of the House’s leading experts in international trade south of the border, shouldn’t he remain office precisely because of his valuable experience?
2. I think my taxes are too high.
My taxes are fine, yours are probably too low. Nyah, nyah. The debate on taxes here is nothing more than a dumbed-down debate on government spending priorities. If you don’t support a certain government program, say Medicare, you’re sure to believe your taxes are too high. But what about the out-of-control pork barrel spending, reaching new heights at the hands of “fiscal conservative” Republican “leaders?” Nobody should really bitch about too-high taxes until this is reigned in.
3. I supported Bill Clinton's impeachment.
What a colossal waste of government time and money, serving as nothing more than an enormous distraction. And it was obvious from the start.
4. I voted for President Bush in 2000.
I’m pretty sure Malkin voted for Governor Bush in 2000, but then again that pre-ordained attitude is telling in right-wing pundits. My own vote in the 2000 presidential election went to consumer advocate Ralph Nader, in hopes of giving the Green Party a permanent slot on Arizona’s ballot. Whoops.
5. I am a gun owner.
I do not own a gun. I do not want to own a gun. I don’t have a problem with anyone who does own a gun, so long as he or she understands it is a potentially deadly weapon and treats it as such. I grew up in the forest with friends who hunted every year, friends who shared venison burgers and deer jerky. I’ve talked with people who have had loved ones murdered by a handgun. This is not a simple issue, not five words simple.
6. I support school voucher programs.
I have yet to hear a convincing argument in favor of voucher programs. Aren’t Malkin’s taxes already too high? Why does she want an entirely new government program? Maybe she would support giving adequate funding to public schools, giving adequate pay to teachers, working on programs to encourage new college graduates to enter teaching, and encouraging experienced teachers to stay and lend their expertise to newer teachers. Maybe not...
7. I oppose condom distribution in public schools.
If demystifying sex through education, rather than demonizing sex through religion indoctrination, can reduce teen pregnancies and halt the spread of sexually transmitted diseases, who loses here?
8. I oppose bilingual education.
I think everybody should be bilingual. It’s a damn shame I’m not. Why discourage people from enriching themselves by learning another language. What Malkin probably means here is that little Mexican children should not speak Spanish in school, but that’s just a guess. That is an incredibly gray area. There have been certain successes shown by English immersion programs, but what is possibly accomplished by encouraging people to abandon their roots and culture?
9. I oppose gay marriage.
I can’t fathom why anybody would give a damn about who marries who. What baffles me even further is the crowd pushing against this is the states rights, no government intrusion, personal freedom conservative crowd. That the constitution should be amended for discriminatory purposes is one of the scariest proposals I could imagine. And never in this “defense of marriage” push is it ever really mentioned how gay nuptials will destroy families, etc.
10. I want Social Security privatized.
I want Social Security, period, but that’s not going to happen. So what I’d really like is for Americans as a society to support those who spent their lives educating and protecting people, toiling away in factories or hospitals or courtrooms, those who built the foundation for today’s society, and not abandon them now for a “free-market” experiment.
11. I believe racial profiling at airports is common sense.
I believe security in airports is common sense. I believe racial profiling in general is built on hatred and vastly unsophisticated assumptions, effectually criminalizing skin color.
12. I shop at Wal-Mart.
I avoid Wal-Mart at all costs. Still, it seems that’s not even possible. Why can’t their employees unionize? Why aren’t they paid a living wage? If there were one Walton heir, he or she would be the richest person in the world, far and away. As it stands now, Waltons occupy five of the top 10 slots. Shopping at Wal-Mart accomplishes nothing more than making these people richer at the expense of their underpaid employees.
13. I enjoy talk radio.
I enjoy music, but I have caught an occasional “Prairie Home Companion” episode. If I may read between the lines for a moment, I think Malkin seems to be saying she enjoys listening to the Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage crowd, whose reactionary rants serve to do little more than enforce in the simple-minded notions of arrogance, racism, sexism and discrimination.
14. I am annoyed when news editors substitute the phrase "undocumented person" for "illegal alien."
I am annoyed at twisting semantics to apply hateful, dehumanizing labels to people who want nothing more than a job, and are willing to risk their lives in pursuit of back-breaking manual labor I would never want to do. I’m especially annoyed at the letters-to-the-editor standby of “What part of illegal don’t they understand?” Illegal immigration is a stunningly complex issue and any attempts at solving problems associated with it must first acknowledge that.
15. I do not believe the phrase "a chink in the armor" is offensive.
I don’t care.
16. I eat meat.
I eat meat. I eat a great many things. I love cheese especially, though I’m not too big on sweets. I drink plenty of water and sometimes even take vitamins. What’s the point of this?
17. I believe O.J. Simpson was guilty.
I thought O.J. Simpson was incredible in Naked Gun. Beyond that, I didn’t for a moment follow that media circus of a trial, though from what I understand a great many people believe the evidence of the case indicates he murdered his wife and that other guy. So?
18. I cheered when I learned that Saddam Hussein had been captured.
Bullshit. I’m calling bullshit here. Actually cheered? No way. Maybe she felt a great surge of near-orgasmic joy, or felt like cheering, but actually clapped and whistled and stuff? Bullshit. Myself, I pretty much said ‘Huh, they got him. Let me read that.’ Oh, then I completely changed my mind and started considering the war an unmitigated success. Not!
19. I cry when I hear "Proud To Be an American" by Lee Greenwood.
That song sucks my ass. That guy is a no-talent ass clown. I also can’t stand “God Bless America” or that song about putting a boot up somebody’s ass. But I think Ray Charles singing “America the Beautiful” is as good as it gets. And I think the national anthem of the United States should be “This Land is Your Land,” so I guess it more or less equals out somewhere.
20. I don't believe The New York Times.
Really? None of it? Not even the temperature listing or the Yankees box scores? Wow, distrust runs deep in this one. Malkin’s all-or-nothing take on the Times does little more than indicate how narrow minded the arguments about the “liberal media” really are. The New York Times is widely considered the best newspaper in the United States, if not the best English language paper or best paper in the world for that matter. Sure it has it’s problems. I still find it hard to believe that nobody on the national desk called bullshit on some of Jayson Blair’s nonsense. But then again, WMD existence was reported as hard fact in the Times for months longer than it should have been. Bottom line is it’s a newspaper with thousands of reporters and editors, covering the biggest city in the country. To outright not believe it sounds childish and simple-minded, but hey, Malkin herself seems to think that’s good enough for a conservative pundit, so who’s to argue?

And yet another music list

This one is really worth checking out...

NPR's 100 most important American musical works of the 20th century.

Future Soundtrack for America

The track listing for this album looks incredible.
I heard Mike Doughty's track earlier this summer at Solar Culture and if that sets the bar, these songs will be passionate, thoughtful, literate rock, pop and folk tunes across the board. A great bunch of titles.
Set for an Aug. 17 release, here's the listing:

1. OK Go : This Will Be Our Year
2. David Byrne : Ain't Got So Far To Go
3. Jimmy Eat World : Game of Pricks (BBC evening session)
4. Death Cab For Cutie : This Temporary Life
5. Blink-182 : I Miss You (James Guthrie mix)
6. Mike Doughty : Move On
7. Ben Kweller : Jerry Falwell Destroyed Earth
8. Sleater-Kinney : Off With Your Head
9. R.E.M. : Final Straw (MoveOn mix)
10. Bright Eyes : Going for the Gold (live)
11. The Long Winters : The Commander Thinks Aloud (future mix)
12. will.i.am of The Black Eyed Peas : Money
13. They Might Be Giants : Tippecanoe And Tyler Too
14. Clem Snide : The Ballad of David Icke
15. Yeah Yeah Yeahs : Date With the Night (live)
16. Fountains of Wayne : Everything's Ruined (acoustic)
17. Nada Surf : Your Legs Grow
18. The Flaming Lips : Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (live on the BBC)
19. Old 97's : Northern Line
20. Laura Cantrell : Sam Stone
21. Tom Waits : Day After Tomorrow
22. Elliott Smith : A Distorted Reality Is Now A Necessity To Be Free

Also available, now or soon, Rock Against Bush, Steve Earle's The Revolution Starts Now (Aug. 24) and Green Day's American Idiot (Sept. 21), among what I'm sure are many others...

Bruce on Nightline

To follow on the last post, Ted devoted Wednesday's program to the "star-studded gallery of musicians" on the Vote for Change tour and the "heady mix of entertainment and politics."
Excerpts from the Bruce interview:

TED KOPPEL: Bruce, let me put it very bluntly ... Who the hell is Bruce Springsteen to tell anybody how to vote?
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: This is my favorite question.
KOPPEL: I thought it would be.
SPRINGSTEEN: First of all, I don't even tell anybody anything. You know, you ask people to think about things together, you know.
Second of all, it's an interesting question that seems to only be asked of musicians and artists, for some reason, you know. If you're a lobbyist in Washington, you're a business guy. Well, shut up and do business. Stay out of public policy, you know. Nobody complains about that. These big corporations, right, you influence the government your way, right? Labor unions influence the government their way. Farmers influence the government their way, right?
Artists write, and sing, and think, and this is how we get to put our two cents in, and we do it right in front of people, not in secret meetings behind closed doors. We let people know what we think….
I don't know if people go to musicians for their politics. I doubt that they do, you know, but you can rally people to think on serious issues together, and that's what we're trying to do.
KOPPEL: This is clearly not the way you felt most of your professional life. Most of your professional life you have very carefully — you've spoken out about a lot of issues …. But you've never gone partisan on us, at least not that, not that I was aware of.
SPRINGSTEEN: Well, I've always felt I was partisan to a set of ideals, and that was my job, you know, whether it was economic justice, transparent government, how do we treat our weakest citizens, say, in foreign policy, when did we decide that it's all right to risk the lives of our very bravest young men and women? You know, I've written about these things for 25 years.
I stayed a step away from partisan politics because I felt it was always important to have an independent voice. I wanted my fans to feel like they could trust that …
You build up credibility, and you build it up for a reason, you know, over a long period of time, and hopefully we've built up that credibility with our audience. And I have an audience that's Democrats, Republicans and everything else, you know. And I think there comes a time when you feel, all right, I've built this up, and it's time to spend some of this.
And I think it's one of the most critical elections of my adult life, certainly. Very basic questions of American identity are at issue: who we are, what do we stand for, when do we fight ....
I want to say basically I feel that, as a nation over the past four years, we've drifted away from I think very mainstream American values. I think that in the question having large tax cuts for the richest one percent. Hey, that's great, you know [for] corporate bigwigs, wealthy, well-to-do guitar players, but we've also watched services get cut, after-school programs for people that need it the most, we've watched rollback on environmental regulations, and a foreign policy that I think put at risk the lives of the very bravest young men and women under what ended up to be discredited circumstances.
What I do believe is I believe that John Kerry and John Edwards — I don't think they have all the answers, but right now for the problems we have, I haven't seen anybody who does ….
KOPPEL: I want to know whether you think this is going to hurt you …. It's a lot of concerts, a lot of cities. And to put it bluntly — it's a late night broadcast — you're going to piss a lot of people off.
SPRINGSTEEN: Oh, yeah.
KOPPEL: Yes.
SPRINGSTEEN: That's for sure. We who are about to be lambasted, salute you, you know?
KOPPEL: Is it going to hit you hard? ...
SPRINGSTEEN: ... I think you have a bond with your audience, and it's very particular because you've put your fingerprints on their imagination. It's really intimate. We've done it for a long time ….
I think for a percentage of my audience, this may feel like a severance of that bond, you know. But basically I feel like the relationship is more complicated than that, you know, that we're one, but we're not the same, you know ….
Basically, I would hope that I'm going to clarify some of the things that I stand for, and that clarification enriches my relationship with all parts of my life. I welcome everybody to our show, and I would always want everybody to feel, you know, to always feel welcome.

I must be prescient or something...

Overall the message is finally sinking in to a lot of people: This election has big stakes. Have a stake in your damn future and put a stop to this terrible administration.

Rock 'n' roll, it's about time

Atta boy, Bruce:

Bruce Springsteen is excited to announce his participation in the Vote for Change concert tour. Between October 1 and October 8, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band will perform at five Vote for Change concerts, sharing the bill with R.E.M., and Bright Eyes with a special appearance by John Fogerty (see dates below).
Vote for Change is a loose coalition of musicians brought together by a single idea—the need to make a change in the direction of our country. We share a belief that this is the most important election of our lifetime. We are fighting for a government that is open, rational, just and progressive.
"I felt like I couldn't have written the music I've written, and been on stage singing about the things that I've sung about for the last twenty five years and not take part in this particular election," said Bruce Springsteen.
Artists participating in Vote for Change have merged their energies and talents to focus on states that are expected to have the closest race in the presidential election this fall. This unprecedented effort will include approximately 34 shows in 28 cities in 9 battleground states over the course of a week.
These concerts will feature Babyface, Jackson Browne, Bright Eyes, Dave Matthews Band, Death Cab for Cutie, the Dixie Chicks, John Fogerty, Ben Harper, Jurassic 5, Keb' Mo', John Mellencamp, My Morning Jacket, Pearl Jam, Bonnie Raitt, R.E.M., James Taylor, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band and more. These and other artists will appear on separate bills on the same night in selected cities around several battleground states.

Get ready for more right wing nonsense about entertainers shutting up and entertaining and staying the heck out of politics.
Face it, the list is full of honorable, charitable folks who have been peace activists and led various social charges, some for decades.
Artists who stand up for their society should be praised, or at the very least not chastised for speaking their minds.
I can only hope they'll change a few minds along the way.
Bruce's inclusion here is especially noteworthy. He spent his artistic career tied to his blue-colar roots - not as some badge of honor to be thrown about as defense for buying a new mansion, but in a far more substantial way.
Nearly every song the Boss has ever written is an artistic exploration of one of the most central American experiences: the hopes and dreams, failures and struggles, truly the lives, of the blue collar folks and the working poor. They're songs about people and experiences, hot summer teenage nights, first cars and first loves. Songs about reckless youth, and its consequences. Songs about factories closing and divorce, tears from wrinkled eyes. Songs that touch a nerve with so many, many people that rock 'n' roll star, or songwriter, don't even come close to describing him. Hero might be the best way to describe him, or idol perhaps.
Last week's Democratic convention thrust him into the political arena once again as Kerry walked out to "No Surrender." Twenty years ago a rather clueless Ronald Reagan had mined the same album and for some strange reason decided "Born in the USA" was an anthem in support of his re-election campaign.
That the plight of the disillusioned, forgotten and discarded Vietnam veterans could be coopted for the same trickle-down bullshit that in part put them in such dire straits is absurd enough to have discouraged Bruce from any public statements forever.
But there he was just weeks after Sept. 11, leading the nation's healing effort with the stark, uplifting "My City of Ruins," a song itself written about his deteriorating hometown. "Rise up," sang Bruce, gospel-style, in perhaps the most pure, unpoliticized message anyone has ever had about one of America's darkest days. It wasn't about rallying around the flag, or the president, I think most people were simply rallying around the idea of America as one community, a united people.
And Bruce gave popular music's first solid, thoughtful examination of the aftermath a year later. This was no boot up anyone's ass, no tear-jerk (and knee-jerk) country ballad.
Aptly titled, The Rising gave thoughtful Americans one man's depiction of the changed landscape, the "Empty Sky," but was at its heart and core mostly an artwork rooted in themes and messages of healing, redemption, love and peace.
Meanwhile, George W. Bush was marching to war in Iraq, confident that the changed landscape as he saw it gave him the right to launch an ill-advised, ill-planned, widely opposed war against a soverign nation, under premises described most charitably as dubious, and worse (though far more accurately) as outright lies.
It's only fitting that Bruce, whose fans are so numerous and devoted that the Boss could sell out any venue in the world, step up now. Bruce represents that silent majority of Americans who hate politics because it's an awful festering mess of egos and back-scratching, scandal and stunning ineptitude. If people want a leader, they must be sorely disappointed with Bush.
It's not as simple as Bruce saying he doesn't want Bush in office again. If it were that it would simply show how shallow mass American culture has sunk.
Take Bruce's statement as an urging from an old, trusted friend, because that's who he is. For 30 years he's just been someone who could brilliantly distill the common experiences of so many people into profound thoughts on the nature of life far greater than any individual. This isn't some celebrity endorsement, this is advice from an American hero and I hope it catches like wildfire.
Closed minded right-wing criticism is enough to affect upstart chicks from Texas, but I'd be damned if there's a more widely trusted voice in America than Bruce Springsteen.

"Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!"

It's unfortunate that the crowd chanting for the Democratic presidential nominee starts sounding like the crowd at a Jerry Springer show...

My main (congress) man

Raul Grijalva, possessor of the only pushbroom mustache in Congress and representative of one of this country’s largest and most Hispanic congressional districts, officially nominates John Edwards for vice president:

Four years ago, we were promised compassion in the White House. That promise has been broken. Compassion means making environmental standards stronger not weaker. Compassion means putting the well-being of our people and our public lands above the profits of corporations. Compassion means being straight with the American people about the justification for war and honoring our troops with the truth. Compassion means investing in our children's future, not tax cuts for millionaires...
The current administration has successfully divided our country and this is one division too many. One broken promise is one too many. One child left behind is one too many. One senior citizen without support and comfort is one too many...
John Edwards is a man who understands that two Americas is one too many and there is no better man I know to unite us once again. As vice president, John Edwards will provide our nation new leadership, with optimism and direction, not selfish pride and favoritism, a common ground view of America -- where the "American dream" thrives. A dream that recognizes the fundamental purpose of our government is to hand over a better, stronger nation to our children. The election is about that dream.

Not the best speech and not the best speaker, but Grijalva did a good job of tying together some of the campaign’s criticisms of Bush and the solutions offered by the Kerry/Edwards ticket. Bush is not compassionate, he is not a uniter. Edwards, on the other hand will do away with the divisive “Two Americas” and build the foundation for a brighter future for every citizen of this country.
I've talked with Grijalva several times and found him nothing short of a true advocate for the least well-off of his constituents, a staunch defender of the environment and personal freedoms. He's no rising star, no bright Democratic future, but Grijalva just may be making a few more waves than he ever counted on... not a bad thing at all.

The Future...

Barack Obama is freakin' awesome:

If there's a child on the south side of Chicago who can't read, that matters to me, even if it's not my child. If there's a senior citizen somewhere who can't pay for her prescription and has to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer, even if it's not my grandmother. If there's an Arab American family being rounded up without benefit of an attorney or due process, that threatens my civil liberties. It's that fundamental belief — I am my brother's keeper, I am my sister's keeper — that makes this country work. It's what allows us to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as a single American family. "E pluribus unum." Out of many, one...

Yet even as we speak, there are those who are preparing to divide us, the spin masters and negative ad peddlers who embrace the politics of anything goes. Well, I say to them tonight, there's not a liberal America and a conservative America — there's the United States of America. There's not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there's the United States of America. The pundits like to slice-and-dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States, and we don't like federal agents poking around our libraries in the Red States. We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq and patriots who supported it. We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.

The first time I've seen the man speak, but damn if he isn't an orator on the order of King. He will be in the Senate and it wouldn't be the slightest surprise to me if one day my vote for president went for Obama...
A shame Janet was basically awful... the speech reads well, but Gov. is just not much of a public speaker.

Good-bye, Cotton

Cotton Fitzsimmons dies at 72.
One of the most positive figures in all of sports, Cotton was a coach, a voice on the radio and an enthusiastic basketball spirit.
Before Paul Westphal, Charles Barkley and AWA set everybody on fire, Cotton led the Suns as KJ, Thunder Dan, Hornacek and Chambo just kept getting better each year.
The Cotton Express. What a guy.

Episode III

Maybe it's just the last stand of a guy who spent childhood fascinated by a galaxy far, far away, but I still have to keep at least a bit of hope alive that Lucas will actually finish his prequal trilogy with a good film.
After enduring two of the most madeningly lame movies in history, I want a good one.
I want Revenge of the Sith to kick some serious, serious ass.
In what obviously will be the single darkest movie of the six, Anakin will turn Darth, and I'm actually rather pleased at the title. Although it may seem like a ploy to just select a word with such dark, vile connotations, 'Revenge' actually goes back to the original title for "Return of the Jedi." And directly mentioning the order of the Sith seems to be an indication that the film will explain some of the mythology behind the dark side Jedi.
Eh... who knows really.
Lucas has a terrible track record for the prequals so far, but I'd really like this last one to abandon all the mundane dialogue, over reliance on special effects, piss-poor acting, thin story lines and general created-to-please-focus-groups feel and re-establish the Star Wars world that captivated me so much so long ago.

No run support...

The Diamondbacks have scored a total of 24 runs in the recent 10-game losing streak. Diamondbacks have given up 61 runs in that stretch. Whew. Please score some runs and finish this season somewhere better than the worst team in baseball. Please.

The Boss

Just in case there was any doubt that Springsteen is one of the coolest people alive...

Springsteen delivers on promise to artist
Musician plays guitar, shares time with area teen

A great story, a great rock n’ roller, a great American.

What’s a more presidential trait than ‘pulsating rhythm’

There’s a growing buzz about John Kerry’s teenage garage band, the Electras.
Head over to Kerry Rocks for a listen, and to read the liner notes. My favorite is this gem:
“John Kerry, electric bass, is a resident of Oslo, Norway, and the producer of a pulsating rhythm that lends tremendous force to all the members.”

A 'rotten' bio

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‘There’s a warnin’ sign on the road ahead’

I’ll never listen to “Keep on Rockin’ in the Free World” the same way again.
It’s the perfect song to close out Fahrenheit 9/11, a film that’s thoughful, measured and powerful. But rather than enraged, I left the theater energized. A sold-out Sunday matinee that not only ended to great applause but was occasionally interrupted by cheers, my experience of F9/11 was definitely a communal one. And in that is the message: there’s cohesion in the opposition.
Aside from the most minor specifics, the facts in the film are nothing new to a news junkie. I don’t think Moore broke any ground aside from running a string through Bush’s past and his administration’s push for war.
As always, Moore plays the facts his own way, but he is no more guilty of misrepresentation or egregious spin than the Bush administration and their monkey boys over at Fox News.
There’s nothing anti-American or un-patriotic here, and I didn’t even think there’s much in the film worth being upset about, even for the staunchest Bush supporter.
All in all the film was a bit more tame than I expected. Moore’s documentary is really no more forceful than the average column by Molly Ivins or Paul Krugman. It had none of the sneer of “Masters of War,” none of the blatant dislike found in lines like “Idiot son of an asshole.”
The conservative critiques of F9/11 I’ve read have been horrendously off point. Their position on Bush’s leadership is nicely summed up in Moore’s film by none other than the world renowned intellectual, Britney Spears: “Honestly, I think we should just trust our president in every decision that he makes and we should just support that.”
Did those who give implicit, unquestioning trust to our so-called “War President” ever question our “Greatest Economic Period in U.S. History President?”
This “support the president” crap from conservatives is the lamest line ever. Don’t put blinders on. Search out the truth, dammit, because you’re sure as hell not getting it from the Bush administration.
All in all, F9/11 boils down to real questions that need real answers.
Why is the United States engaged in a war in Iraq? Why are minority soldiers dying at the greatest rates? Why did Bush just sit there with little kids when told the nation was under attack? How did a businessman universally considered incompetent at best rise to lead the greatest nation in the world?
In the end, nobody walks out with any more answers. Instead the only question that now matters is crystal clear: How soon can we remove that man from office?

‘The good times are killing me’

Good times, great weekend.
From Fahrenheit 9/11 to Mike Doughty, from Coffee and Cigarettes to the Gourds.
Top to bottom great.

More detailed posts to come...

Online goofery

I don't have the faintest idea what this is, but it's hilarious.

Michael Powell, get your hands off my airwaves

This couldn’t be better news

New FCC media rules blocked

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - A U.S. appeals court refused Thursday to allow loosened federal rules on media ownership to take effect, dealing a blow to large broadcasters like News Corp. and Tribune Co. looking to extend their reach.
...
"The Commission has not sufficiently justified its particular chosen numerical limits for local television ownership, local radio ownership, and cross-ownership of media within local markets," said the 218-page opinion by the appellate court in Philadelphia.
...
Opponents who waged a grass-roots campaign against the rules cheered the court's decision, saying it would now provide an opportunity to write rules that would slow industry consolidation.

Yes this is a crucial presidential election. Yes soldiers die every day in Iraq. Yes our dependence on foreign oil is frightening.
But I think media consolidation is potentially the largest single issue facing the American public precisely because it disrupts, degrades and mutates the very flow of information.
I’m just stunned that this hasn’t received bigger play, both in mainstream press and television and in the blog world. The hometown morning daily had it burried below the fold in the business page. Sure it’s business, but this is A1 material.

Those 70s Tunes

The uber-snobs over at Pitchforkmedia have published their list of the Top 100 albums of the 1970s. And honestly, music geekery and snobbery rarely is this fascinating. This is a much more respectable list than the ones Rolling Stone have been tossing out lately (including their shameful declaration of Sgt. Pepper’s as the best album of all time, which along with a Beatles-bloated top 10 reveals just how lame they are).
Just check out the top 10:
10. Brian Eno - Another Green World
9. Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures
8. Gang of Four - Entertainment!
7. Led Zeppelin - IV
6. Kraftwerk - Trans-Europe Express
5. Bob Dylan - Blood on the Tracks
4. Sly & The Family Stone - There's a Riot Goin' On
3. Television - Marquee Moon
2. The Clash - London Calling
1. David Bowie - Low

Alls I can say is thank god Bob Dylan came out on top of Kraftwerk. Otherwise I think I’d abandon Pitchforkmedia forever.
Others that jumped out at me: The Rolling Stones - Exile on Main Street at 11, the Modern Lovers at 40, Elvis Costello - My Aim Is True at 37, Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon at 70, and Randy Newman - Sail Away at 79.
You can also scan the lists of each writer and see that Blood on the Tracks and Dark Side of the Moon each come out on top twice.
It’s interesting to note who they consider “casualties” that didn’t make the cut: Bruce Springsteen, Bob Marley, Van Morrison, Black Sabbath, Queen, Nina Simone, Frank Zappa, Tom Waits, Elton John and Willie Nelson, among many others.

Announcement

There are still some bugs to work out, but I'd like to invite anybody reading Catfish Vegas presents... on over to The Time & Space Lounge.
Joining myself in this endeavor are a crack team of writers, comics, former journalists, and various wandering souls, searching for who knows what.
The subject matter may be scattered, but I can guarantee each post is a nugget of tasty goodness.
The cast reads like the A Team, or Superfriends, or Oceans 11, or some other world class group of highly trained specialists, working to save the world or steal a shit ton of cash.
You all know Catfish Vegas, owner of sage wisdom, an almost psychic connection with the outer world. Then there's Mr. Chair, the nimble burglar whose feline quickness is matched only by his strength of rhetoric. And George Chomberson, a chef of stunning talent and razor wit. And Z, whose blindness only serves to enhance his other senses to superhuman levels. And other recruits are soon to follow.
Yes folks, The Time & Space Lounge is here.

Champs

Detroit wins, convincingly. The only close game of the series involved a near-miracle three.
I'm absolutely thrilled the Lakers went down. Now if somebody can keep the Yankees out of the Series, I'll have survived the entire year without watching one of my most hated teams attain success. Excellent.
Two notes on the series: Kevin Garnett may have become the NBA's premiere player this year, but Ben Wallace is an absolute WARRIOR. And he may have been impressive in only one game, but damn it if Luke Walton isn't really starting to show what he can do.

“Inevitable consequence”

I have a hard time taking the pledge of allegiance debate too seriously. “Under God” doesn’t bother me any more than “In God We Trust” does, or opening Congress with a prayer. Sure, it probably shouldn’t be there (and wasn’t at one point), but I chalk that up to tradition more than anything else. Christmas is a federal holiday just because it’s a day that’s always been celebrated, not because we’re all Christians.
The whole “Under God” pledge argument seems to be one of those insignificant issues that certain people pick in a cause to make their point.
It’s all about noise, not results.
It’s no surprise the Supreme Court took the easy way out and decided they could not hear the case because the father doesn’t have custody.
But buried at the bottom of a concurring opinion, Sandra Day O’Connor made what may be the clearest statement about the whole mess:

Certain ceremonial references to God and religion in our Nation are the inevitable consequence of the religious history that gave birth to our founding principles of liberty.

Translation: It’s not good or bad, right or wrong. It’s there and it will be, so get over it and worry about things that really matter. Stop making noise and start getting results.
Some might say that O’Connor (whose hand I shook, years ago as a child dragged by his mother to see a famous historical figure) leaves the door open here for Ray Moore styled histrionics and evangical rape of common sense. Other than simply doubting it, I’d say that it is in explicit denial of such. The opinion recognizes that a nation founded by white protestants will, even hundreds of years later, inevitably hold on to little quirks here and there. Let’s not fight out every single one, it says, but worry about the big ones that actually matter.
I call it the pragmatic interpretation.

Catfish returns...

From a sold-out night game at Wrigley against the Cardinals (Cubs Win! - although the only reason I was rooting for the home team was to avoid a bunch of pissed off Cubs fans the rest of the nights) to Bennett’s Smut 'n Eggs in Madison, we’ll call the P-town and Midwest adventures a smashing success.
Watching the blood-red moon rise over a ridge in Highland Pines outside of Prescott, a fabulous Shins show, world class late night comedy at Chicago’s Improv Olympic, later night brats, frisbee golf and a dip in the pool on a muggy Madison afternoon, and of course, the Essen Haus. Plenty of beer and almost enough sleep. Wonderful head-clearing, soul-enriching adventure. Long talks with old friends. New sights, sounds and tastes.
Next up: The West Coast again, just as soon as I can swing it.

Roaming the Midwest

All right folks, Catfish is headin' out for a while. First it's off to P-Town for a couple days, then jettin' back for the Shins show, then off to Chicago and Madison for for visitin' Z-Jiggy and Ro-Dogg.
Keep it fresh and I'll be back wit ya on the 15th.

Baseball

With a D’Backs-Dodgers contest on in the background and my thoughts naturally turning to baseball, I thought I’d chat for a while about the game.
I grew up loving every aspect of baseball. I was a card-collecting, catch-playing, game-watching fanatic. I’d have All-Star game at-bats in my head, while tossing rocks in the air and hitting them with a battered aluminum bat. I knew stats so minute they barely existed. Never artistic, I tried my hand at water-colors and sketching players, with little sucess (Roger Clemens unfortunately and unintentionally looked a lot like Kirby Puckett). I had the T-shirt of every World Series winner, stretching over nearly a decade.
The best, though, was winning the Little League championship. Eleven years old and that moment will always stack up among my best. I never made an All-Star team, and by the time I was 13, playing on a big field, my skills didn’t stack up so well. I was a runt, basically, and my eyesight started going right about the same time the other kids started throwing curveballs. I couldn’t hit, just field.
I quit playing at 15 and worked two summers scorekeeping and umpiring. My last game was behind the plate at the city championship, when I decided I hated the parents who took the game more seriously than their sons, who took the loss hard but still loved having played the game.
I was a Dodgers fan from the time I knew baseball. My grandma loved Mickey Hatcher and Tommy Lasorda. We traded cards and the grandfolks took me to Dodger Stadium for birthdays. I devoured books about the Dodgers, memorized their history from a videotape. In college I watched Stand By Me on video, taped from the television, and jumped up - goose-bumped and near tears - when one of the commercials had Orel Hershiser proclaiming he was going to Disneyland. Kirk Gibson’s heroic, mythical homerun still gives me the chills.
That 1988 series was the best, but 1995’s divsion title and 1996’s wild card still fired me up. I was amazed at the string of rookies to win the league’s top prize - Karros, Piazza, Mondesi, Nomo and Hollandsworth. I’ve seen them all play. I spent my 18th birthday at Dodger Stadium, on the downswing from a fanatic to a fan, but still thrilled to be at Chavez Ravine.
Like any teenager who doesn’t play anymore, baseball started meaning less and less to me. Denny’s, coffee and Letty Hanna mattered more. Calculus, English and newspaper classes took more time. We camped in the woods, drinking cheap beer.
For years I’d catch the Series, maybe. I saw McGwire’s 62nd on TV, but I stopped caring for the Dodgers. I don’t think I even noticed how they changed. But a bit of research shows that in just over three months, everything I’d come to hate about baseball had torn apart the only team I’d ever loved.
The O’Malley family sold the team to Fox Entertainment Group, aka News Corp. on March 19, 1998. That was travesty enough, and I didn’t then know anything about Rupert Murdock. The Piazza trade followed in May. And in June, Bill Russell - infielder extraordinaire and the man who was Lassorda’s heir, just the third manager since 1954 - was fired.
I didn’t revolt; I just stopped giving a damn. The strike in 1994 didn’t lose me; growing up did.
The Diamondbacks started in 1998. I was thrilled when Major League Baseball announced the franchise, but I was more or less indifferent when they started. It was cool, I suppose, to have a home team, but expansion clubs always suck and I wasn’t too impressed with the purple-turquoise combination. I followed the team a bit when they signed Randy Johnson (who along with Tony Gwynn was one of the few players I could still root for, no matter what). Then the 2001 season took off and I went with it. The playoff run was stunning. The Series had every single element necessary for greatness. I think I missed watching just a single inning.
Leaping from my chair after Gonzo’s limp single brought a week of anxiety to an amazing close, I felt practically the same thing I did as an 11-year-old shortstop jumping on teammates after we won the city. We won. WE. WON!
Maybe it was simply victory that relaunched my love for the game. Maybe I just had to have a reason to care again.
Paul LoDuca just squeaked a homer into the left-field bullpen off Casey Fossum to take a 4-2 lead and I gritted my teeth. Because this is going to be a long year. Because we’re on a three-game winning streak. Because I care.
Televised baseball and box scores are one thing. All-Star Game voting and webgems are one thing. Winning streaks and minor league call ups are one thing.
But the real baseball is walking into the park, heading straight across the concourse to get that first glimpse of the field. The real baseball captures you - sends your mind back in time. The real baseball surrounds you with sights, sounds and memories of everything about the game that’s ever made you smile, or wince. The real baseball is a game, not a sport, or a business.
The real baseball, strangely enough, is Field of Dreams. It’s The Rookie and Major League. It’s a pissed-off James Earl Jones calming down to announce “The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball.” It’s a Cinderella story and yeah, even Randy Newman and Wesley Snipes get to play.
Two years ago on a road trip I was lucky enough to catch games in Anaheim and Denver. I cheered with friends and spit sunflower seed shells. In Denver we sat in the first row out in the left-field corner. You know the spot, where all the foul balls go. We knew that, but no balls ever came near. So I heckled a bit. I couldn’t tell you who won the games, but I want to go back to both parks. Coors Field is as friendly as baseball’s past and Edison, fittingly, is filled with pure energy.
I saw a D’Backs game last month - inside the BOB, with the air-conditioning vents overhead only slightly obscuring the sounds of the ballpark. They nearly got shut out by the Expos, managing only a weak sacrifice fly and stranding the bases loaded in one inning. But I walked in and paid homage to the World Series trophy. I took off my cap and placed it over my heart, staring at Brenley’s lineup card, Randy’s uniform and crouching down, marveled at Gonzo’s bat and the game ball that he hit just far enough, sending Jay Bell home. I actually teared up, and I left the ballpark happy.
I went to the Sidewinders Monday, taking in the cool desert night and Sonoran sunset as much as the game. But in a minor league game, rooting for a team that’s sent all its stars 100 miles north to the bigs, I’ll be damned if I wasn’t standing for the last half inning, cursing the third base umpire who cost us the tying run and nearly holding my breath as a weak grounder ended a bases-loaded threat.
That’s baseball.
I may get to see a game at Wrigley next week. And the BOB is just up the road. My grandma died in March, but I bet I can talk my grandpa into a game. And I want to see the new San Diego park soon. And San Francisco and Denver and Anaheim and Seattle. And I can’t wait to get back to Dodger Stadium.

Cinema crap

I've already marvelled at Shrek 2, and while it will hit the big screen, a Michael Moore documentary doesn't truly count in the slate of summer movies.
Aside fro that, I challenge anybody out there to convince me to go see any movie that doesn't end in "man" this summer (Spider-Man 2, Anchorman).
Global warming changing the world in a matter of seconds? Futuristic cop Will Smith battling evil robots? Another surprise ending from the increasingly bad M. Night whatever? Kate Hudson in a movie that looks so awful it downright destroys her Almost Famous karma? Another Tom Cruise action flick? Lame, pointless remakes? Yet another Ben Stiller comedy? Wayans in drag and whiteface?
This slate of summer cinema looks like absolute worthless crap. Hollywood's wasteland off season (late winter, spring) offered much better fare with the Ladykillers, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Kill Bill vol. 2.
I guess I'll have to take solace in the Dukes of Hazzard and Northern Exposure dvds.

A zoning dispute turns zany

Every now and then a news story comes along that ranks with the most unusual things I have ever heard. Today we turn to Colorado, where an armed man in a fortified bulldozer has been going on a rampage.
What the hell?

A muffler shop owner reportedly angry at local government over a zoning dispute tore through town Friday in an armored bulldozer, smashing buildings and firing shots as police tried to stop the slow-motion rampage.

This guy sounds like an absolute nut. But apparently it's not out of the norm in small-town Colorado:

The scene was reminiscent of a 1998 rampage in Alma, another town in the Colorado Rockies. Authorities said Tom Leask shot a man to death, then used a town-owned front-end loader to heavily damage the post office, fire department, water department and town hall.

Have fun in your new home state Spills...

Looks like a good summer

On the horizon...

Friday, Ron Sexsmith at Plush (sadly I’ll be out of town)
Sunday, Calexico and Tortise at Club Congress (sadly I’ll be out of town)
Monday, the Shins at the Rialto
June 24, the Decemberists at Plush
June 27, Soul Coughing’s Mike Doughty at Solar Culture
June 28, The gourds at Plush
July 1, Reverend Horton Heat at City Limits
July 10, Mum at Solar Culture
July 23, Broken Social Scene at Club Congress
Aug. 7 the Flatlanders at City Limits
plus a handful of Greyhound Soul shows throughout

In the world of sex...

It's been a busy day...

Woman gives birth using 21-year-old sperm

Ark. couple has 15th child, may have more

Washington university cancels annual Pornfest

Sex blogger: I played safe

No longer sweatin'

In all fairness, I ought to update the Richard Simmons uber-scandal.
Arrested at Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport in March, the exercise guru (well, not really, but who's splittin' hairs?) is now free and clear.

PHOENIX - A Phoenix city court judge has dismissed an assault charge against exercise guru Richard Simmons stemming from a March incident at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport in which he allegedly slapped an ultimate cage fighter across the face.
The cage wrestler, identified as Christopher Farney, agreed to drop the misdemeanor charge against Simmons, according to court documents filed May 19. The court records did not indicate why Farney agreed to the dismissal. Simmons, the outlandish 55-year-old known for his nationally distributed exercise videos, was accused of slapping the 6-foot-2, 250-pound athlete after the man reportedly made a derogatory remark about Simmons as they waited to board a flight on March 24.

I wish the cage fighter would have hit back. It would have been such a better story:
Excercise super-guru Richard Simmons was seriously injured at Sky Harbor Airport after starting a fight with an ultimate cage fighter...
I never did hear if David Letterman picked up on the story...

Fun with music

Here’s a tracklist for the new biannual mix, entitled “Momentary Fires,” which follows “Drunken Saints” and “The Time & Space Lounge”

Wilco - At Least That's What You Said
David Cross interlude “Answer Your Telephone”
Steely Dan - Godwhacker
Shins - Kissing the Lipless
Modest Mouse - Float On
Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers - Americano!
Chango Malo - F*ing Wheathins
Ryan Adams - Burning Photographs
Badly Drawn Boy - You Were Right
Decemberists - Billy Liar
Okkervil River - Blanket and Crib
Bonnie “Prince” Billy - I See a Darkness
Dan Bern - New American Language
Mike Doughty - Looks
Bob Dylan - To Ramona
Lyle Lovett - If I Had a Boat
Flatlanders - Goin' Away
John Prine - Your Flag Decals Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore
Al Perry - Dreaming
Sammy Kershaw - Honky Tonk America

“Momentary Fires” follows “Drunken Saints” and “The Time & Space Lounge,” if anyone cares.

Just a couple song quotes runnin' 'round my head...

"I would never be so dumb to say they stole an election. They bought the damn thing fair and square" -- Dan Bern

"But your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more.
They're already overcrowded
From your dirty little wars.
Now Jesus he don't like killin'
No matter what the reason is for,
And your flag decal won't get you
Into Heaven any more" -- John Prine

Perfect

The staff here at Catfish Vegas presents... would like to warmly congratulate Randy Johnson on tossing a perfect game.
I got to watch the last two innings and it was amazing. Rarely does a baseball crowd give the opponent an extended standing ovation, but anyone who has a pure love of baseball in his or her heart had to feel great watching.
Incredible. The rarest of feats in sports. And outside Harvey Haddix's 12 perfect innings, Johnson may have pitched the single most dominant game in Major League history.
Roger Clemens has had a great year, but with one magic night, Randy re-asserted himself as the single best pitcher in the game today.
As a side note, I made my second trip to Bank One Ballpark on Sunday. The game itself was pathetic, culminating in the sixth when the D'Backs loaded the bases with no outs and couldn't push a run across.
But I did stop to pay homage to the World Series trophy on the way in. I took off my cap, placed it over my heart and just stared at Randy Johnson's game seven jersey, the lineup card and as I crouched to stare at Gonzo's bat and the game-winning ball, I started tearing up. From there to that magic first glimpse of the field... To Randy's perfect game tonight. Now that's baseball.

Wildly improved

Welcome to the second generation of Catfish Vegas presents...
Blogger has improved its services quite a bit of late and I decided to follow suit. Primarily this looks better, but my favorite improvement is the ease of navigation. Entries can be viewed separately and recent posts are listed individually.
Keep reading...

Yet another reason to distrust the record industry

All their complaining about how music pirating is driving down business turns out to be a bunch of hooey.
It turns out the RIAA decided to switch the way it counts everything.
Instead of looking at sales when they say sales are going down, they look at units shipped.
Turns out sales are actually on the rise, while less units are being shipped.
Never believe another thing the RIAA says. They've been trying their damndest to turn music into a profit machine, only to get rebuffed at every turn by musicians and music lovers. I say listen away, but to music, not the industry windbags.

The Onion's take on blogging

I've searched for this for quite some time. Since it isn't archived on The Onion's Web site, I had to keep searching until I found some other kind soul who lifted the whole thing. Dedicated to my brother... thankfully I keep this site impersonal.

Mom finds out about blog

MINNEAPOLIS, MN—In a turn of events the 30-year-old characterized as "horrifying," Kevin Widmar announced Tuesday that his mother Lillian has discovered his weblog.
"Apparently, Mom typed [Widmar's employer] Dean Healthcare into Google along with my name and, lo and behold, PlanetKevin popped up," Widmar said. "I'm so fucked."
In an e-mail sent to Widmar Monday, Lillian reported in large purple letters that she was "VERY EXCITED :)!!!" to find his "computer diary," but was perplexed that he hadn't mentioned it to her.
Upon receipt of the e-mail, Widmar mentally raced through the contents of his blog. He immediately thought of several dozen posts in which he mentioned drinking, drug use, casual sex, and other behavior likely to alarm his mother.
"I don't have one of those sites that's a big tell-all about one-night stands and wild parties," Widmar said. "I mostly write about the animation I like or little things that happen to me and my friends. But there are definitely things in there that I wouldn't, well, write home to Mom about."
Fortunately for Widmar, Lillian's comments about the site indicate that she has not delved deeply into its contents.
"Mom's main comment was that I look tired in the photos from my birthday party, so I'm guessing that she didn't get past the first page yet," Widmar said. "She will, though. She will."
Widmar said he expects his site to provide Lillian with ample cause for worry.
"Even on that benign front page, she found something to freak out about," Widmar said. "She read the entry for Monday, where I mentioned how much I hate my job, and e-mailed to say that she hoped I wasn't thinking of quitting in this economy."
"Mom had a fit when she found out that I put my television on my credit card," Widmar added. "If she reads about how I was with my friend Jayson when he got pulled over for drunk driving, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Oh God," Widmar said with a gasp. "Three days ago, I wrote something about buying pot!"
Widmar said that the idea of his mother immersing herself in the boring details of his life is just as frightening as the idea of her discovering his misconduct.
"Really, the blog is just a record of what I think about the world and how I spend my free time," Widmar said. "In other words, exactly the sort of information that no 30-year-old wants his mom to have access to."
"I know enough not to tell Mom that I'm seeing a girl until it's serious," Widmar said. "Now, she's going to know exactly who I hang out with, where I go, and what I spend my time doing on a daily basis. I am so in hell right now."
"God, my links alone contain unlimited fodder for Mom's neuroses," Widmar said. "She'll have access to not only my life, but the lives of all my friends who have web sites. She'll have the names of all the places in Minneapolis where we hang out, which she can—and will—look up. With the raw materials in my blog, she could actually construct an accurate picture of who I am. This is fucking serious."
"To think that I was happy that Mom was e-mailing instead of calling ever since [Widmar's sister] Karen got her online last year," he added. "I didn't see the danger."
According to Widmar, there's "no fucking chance" that Lillian will simply give the site a cursory look and never return.
"Mom loves hearing every boring detail of her kids' lives," he said. "She'd want to know what I'm eating for dinner every night, if she could. This blog is like porn for her."
"Come to think of it, why do I sometimes write about what I ate for dinner?" Widmar asked.
Seeing his blog through his mother's eyes, Widmar said he knows there's no way the site can remain unchanged.
"I know Mom will instantly become the site's most avid reader and most vocal fan," Widmar said. "As I write it, I'll think, "How would Mom feel about this?" Even worse, I'm sure she'll give the address to all our relatives."
All of the tactics Widmar has considered to divert his mother seem unworkable.
"I could take it down for a few weeks, but I know she wouldn't just forget about it," Widmar said. "I could edit the site and send my other readers through a back door, to another blog just for them. But, I mean, that's just ridiculous."
If Widmar starts a blog at a new address, without his full name this time, he said he risks losing "close to 100" regular readers.
As of press time, Widmar had not decided whether to shut PlanetKevin down.
"The clock is ticking," Widmar said. "I've gotta act fast. At this very minute, she might be reading about the time I did Ecstasy last summer. If Mom finds that entry, I can pretty much count on our conversations for the next year being centered on the dangers of drug use."

Absolutely hilarious.

‘Inevitable but sad’

“We need to reach out to a younger demographic to bring them to the ballpark.”
That may be true, but how the hell to you get from there to putting Spider-man 2 advertisements on bases at Major League stadiums for a weekend?
Is it too much to ask to keep advertisements out of the field of play? And does Spider-man 2, the sequal of a record-setting box office smash, really need more advertising? And is linking baseball with a genetically modified superhero really a good idea?
Former Commissioner Fay Vincent calls it “Inevitable but sad.”
I have no major problem with corporate-named stadiums - that trend is as old as Wrigley. It was funny when Houston has to rename its Enron Park. Sure, “Dodger Stadium” has a nicer ring that “PetCo Park,” but baseball and advertising have gone hand-in-hand for years. The first baseball cards came with tobacco and Joe Dimaggio and Ted Williams hawked cigarettes.
I can’t wait for the inevitable (but sad) Jay Leno joke:
“The investigation into steroid use in Major League Baseball has found that Barry Bonds did nothing illegal. He was just bitten by a genetically-altered spider. Yeah.”

Disney Blocks Film Critical of Bush or Why Big Media Sucks, Reason # 3,001

Yes Michael Moore is a great filmmaker. Yes Michael Moore has some serious beef with GWB. Yes Michael Moore has been known to play a little fast with the facts.
He’s not owed anything, but it seems damn fishy that Disney is blocking its subsidiary Miramax from releasing "Fahrenheit 9/11"
Michael Moore is absolutely a windbag, but he’s growing more effective all the time. His “deserter” charge snowballed into weeks of scrutiny into Bush’s national guard file. And while the press corps never really dug below the surface and the matter will likely never be resolved, the Campaigner in Chief’s service was actually questioned for a moment.

The most interesting part of this is that it might actually wake Congress up to the real world. Burried in the article is a reference to potential congressional action against big media censorship.
“In addition, Sen. Frank R. Lautenberg, Democrat of New Jersey, called for hearings of the Senate Commerce Committee to look into the pattern of politically based corporate censorship of the news media and the entertainment industry, the senator's office said.
"While corporate leaders rarely exercise discretion over gross indecency or violence, we have seen a number of corporate conglomerates censor material recently based on political content," Lautenberg sad in a letter to Commerce Committee Chairman Sen. John McCain, Republican of Arizona.”
Let’s hope that with this ball in the Straight Talk court, something might actually get done.

Eerie dream

I know this comes from my own subconscious, but damned if I wouldn’t be surprised to see it in the Times or Post.
A Department of Defense official, in a press conference with reporters who are pissed at the Pentagon policy against releasing images of soldier’s caskets (and Bush administration’s policy of stonewalling in general), gives them a suggestion: Quit. That’s right, he said, just throw your press credendials over the wall at Dover Air Force Base and walk away.
I don’t know what to make of the dream, other than to say that this politics stuff is embedded way too deep in my brain...
And it’s only April

Ungrateful prick

I have a hard time finding any respect for Eli Manning and his pop Archie in their steadfast refusal to play for the San Diego Chargers.
This is a sport, a game millions of kids across the nation play, hoping to one day be good enough to make the pros. And when somebody does make the pros, he's paid millions of dollars to do so.
Every professional athlete should feel incredibly lucky to have the kind of natural physical talent to gain incredible wealth from playing a game. And acknowledge that without that talent, you have to actually work a job, making far far less.
Eli Manning would sit out a year if San Diego drafted and then didn't trade him? Insulting. There's a reason the worst teams get the best draft picks.
His brother was picked first in 1998. And lo and behold, not only was he co-MVP this past season, the formerly worst in the league Colts went far into the playoffs.
And Indianapolis is a far worse place to find yourself living than San Diego.
My message to the younger Manning. Shut up and play football, for whoever drafts you and how ever much money they want to pay you. It could be a hell of a lot worse.

Update
The Chargers did draft the arrogant prick Manning, but quickly traded him to the New York Giants. Here's hoping for an ACL tear in training camp and a lengthy McDonald's career for The Idiot Who's Already Made A Legion Of Enemies By Whining About Who Will Pay Him Millions Of Dollars To Throw A Ball.

A different world

Not only am I awake and (mildly) alert long before 9 a.m., but I'm already at work. Swapping for the day shift not only affords me the opportunity to check out Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers tonight, but also a (thankfully) rare glimpse of the World Before Noon.
It's weird, especially on a Saturday. I saw the chief deputy County Attorney jogging (good boy!). The traffic was negligible. The Circle K clerks were different.
But none of that compares to this stunning observation, the real reason mornings are absolutely creepy:
The shadows go the wrong way. It's subtle, but taken all together, west-pointing shadows make everything look just different enough to creep me out. It's like a reverse negative or mirror effect. It's a Tim Burton-looking world, or some bizarro dimension. The worst is a lawn, in which each tiny of blade of grass casts its own wrong-leaning shadow.

Spc. Patrick D. Tillman, 27

"The Department of Defense announced today the death of a Soldier who was supporting Operation Enduring Freedom.
Spc. Patrick D. Tillman, 27, of Chandler, Ariz., died April 22, in Afghanistan when his patrol vehicle came under attack. Spc. Tillman was assigned to the Army’s 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, Fort Lewis, Wash."

He wasn’t a hawk. He volunteered. He turned down a $3.6 million offer to play the game of football. He signed up to honestly and nobly serve in the defense of the United States. It’s not something I would do. I don’t believe in war. Maybe it’s a lack of courage. Maybe I take freedom for granted. Maybe I’m only writing about this guy because I’ve heard his name before. Maybe he’s a hero because he played football; because he died in Afghanistan instead of Iraq; because he was in the Rangers. He felt strongly enough about the Sept. 11 attacks to sign up. He didn’t have to. He already had a career. Maybe it’s a tough guy thing. It’s not something I would do. It’s not something George W. Bush would have done.
Is that harsh? Yeah. Is it right? Yeah. There’s fighting a war -- and then there’s pulling the strings on a war. Tillman - and every other soldier - doesn’t have to answer for his motives. George W. has to.

Pat Tillman.
He’s the perfect example of the complexities (and contradictions) of the post Sept. 11 world. Can I support him without supporting the president? Sure. Would he agree with me, or with the president? That’s an easy one. Do I care who he agrees with? Not really.
There are some who’d say I take his sacrifice for granted. That I’m unpatriotic. That a liberal, athiest pantywaist ain’t got nuthin’ on Pat Tillman. True, I suppose.
I wouldn’t walk in his shoes, but I’m grateful he was there. I can pick apart the Military-Industrial Complex with a hundred different arguments and the bigotry of the Christian right disgusts me. But I believe in the nobility of national defense. And I see loving, compassionate activists placing water jugs in the desert for thirsty migrants, in the name of Jesus.
I think Colin Powell lies. But he’s had a brilliant career and made a positive mark on American society for many years.
I believe history will mark George W. Bush as perhaps the worst president in U.S. history, a man whose destructive impulses put the nation and the world in danger. But I’d love to have a beer with him, tell a couple jokes.
I think war is disgusting and ugly. And necessary, at times, in the name of freedom.
I think compassion has a greater place in the world than hate. I think unity is either a cruel myth or a buzzword. I don’t believe in patriotism, but I love my country.

"The Arizona Cardinals today announced the plaza surrounding the perimeter of the new Cardinals Stadium, scheduled to open in 2006 in Glendale, will be named 'Pat Tillman Freedom Plaza.'"

It says here that the new stadium should be named for Pat Tillman.

Sen. John McCain:
“I’m heartbroken. So many of us are. We grieve over the deaths of all of our young Americans who have died in Iraq, especially those from the state of Arizona, but Pat Tillman represented what’s finest in America because he left a very comfortable and rewarding lifestyle after 9/11 in the belief that he needed to fight for his country and fight against his enemies and that’s how he left us. We will honor his memory and we know that he will serve as an example and hero to every young American, in Arizona and across the nation.”
“Pat Tillman has entered the list of Arizona and American heroes. He epitomizes everything that’s magnificent and noble about Americans. He left a comfortable lifestyle, a bright future after 9/11 and defended his country. He died combatting the very same people that were responsible for 9/11 and I think that young people in this state will be reminded of his heroism for 100 years.”

I think the senator is right.

Craptastic

‘Spose people really are obsessed with dissecting top or best whatever lists, or they wouldn’t keep a-comin’. Here’s a new twist: the 50 worst songs ever, from Blender Magazine.
“We Built This City” and “Achy Breaky Heart” land on top -- and truthfully with good reason. They suck, they’re awful, they’re painful to listen to... But the thing is, I know damn near every song on the list.
It’s weird, they all were enormously popular at one point in time. I’m from the generation in which nearly everybody can still rattle off at least the first verse of “Ice Ice Baby” -- on command and laugh hysterically at doing so. And so songs like “Everybody Have Fun Tonight” are naturally going to be stuck in my head forever, just as the Brady Bunch theme and various commercial jingles.
Largely these awful songs are summer hits - fun, catchy and mostly harmless. And for some reason they have this weird island/tropical vibe -- “Kokomo” and “Don’t Worry Be Happy.”
The 1990s selections follow the inevitable backlash of nonsensibly high charting songs. 4 Non Blonds, the Rembrandts, Spin Doctors, Deep Blue Something, Meat Loaf, Right Said Fred, Crash Test Dummies... none of these songs are truly that bad, but they were ubiquitous and unnecessarily so.
Then there are the songs that are pure slop -- bad enough to be criminal: Celine Dion. Clay Aiken. Bete Midler. These people should all be shot.
I’m not too sure why “The End,” “We Didn't Start the Fire,” “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and “The Sounds of Silence” make the list. They’re not the best songs of those artists, but surely there have been worse songs. For starters, I’d add “Mmm Bop” and “Macarena” to the shit list, plus everything Britney Spears has ever recorded.
I’d draw an interesting parallel between the craptastic songs on this list and the current slate of reality television. People make fun of themselves for having liked this music, but they did, one day, at some level, actively choose to listen.
My only hope is that Donald Trump, Paris Hilton, that chick who dated Fabio and whoever the hell won Survivor will one day be rightly skewered like this. Near instant fame for no real reason has its inevitable backlash. Reality TV will go down, it will be a shameful mark on American tastes... or I’ll be the last holdout, viewed as some snobbish elite because I could’t get down with shameless midget dating games and plastic surgery contests.

Waffles

Go and see The Ladykillers. Absolutely. It’s ridiculous.

“Madam, We must have waffles! We must all have waffles forthwith! We must think, and we must all have waffles, and think each and everyone of us to the best of his ability.”
“Not to beat a horse that, if not dead, has been flogged to a point of being mortally wounded”
and
“You brought your bitch to the Waffle Hut?”

join

“You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don't wanna know about it, believe me. Hell, I can get you a toe by 3 o'clock this afternoon... with nail polish.”
“Nihilists! Fuck me. I mean, say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? The chinaman is not the issue here, dude. I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, dude. Across this line, you DO NOT... Also, dude, chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American, please.”
“Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.”
“Phone's ringing, Dude.”
“Well, Pete, there are all manner of lesser imps and demons, but the great Satan hisself is red and scaly with a bifurcated tail, and he carries a hay fork.”
“Or, if not smithies per se, were you otherwise trained in the metallurgic arts before straitened circumstances forced you into a life of aimless wanderin'?”
“We thought you was a toad.”
“Those boys desecrated a burning cross!”
“I'm not sure I agree with you a hundred percent on your police work, there, Lou.”
“However, just at the moment, I have drinking to do. Why don't you stop by my bungalow, which is number fifteen, later on this afternoon, and we will discuss rasslin' scenarios and other things lit'rary.”
“Biology and other peoples' opinions conspired to keep us childless.”
“There's right and there's right and never the t'wain shall meet.”
“Well could you describe the jammies?” -- “I don't what is damn jammies looked like... they had Yodas and shit on them.”
and
“We figured there was too much happiness here for just the two of us, so we figured the next logical step was to have us a critter.”

among the Coen’s best-ever lines.

And if you’re substantially bored, check out imdb for a ridiculous string of comments applying “waffles” to other classic movie lines and characters. “Say hello to my little waffle” and “We don’t need no stinking waffles” are among the funniest ones.

Rehab

No Orpheum. No Rialto. No Wilco.
Few things hit Catfish as hard as news of this nature.

Dylan 2

It doesn’t sound 40 years old. It doesn’t seem 40 years old. The sound is crisp, clear, loud and perfect; the attitude is joyous and playful, yet at times frantic and at times haunting.
If Live 1964 really is 40 years old, it must’ve been way ahead of its time. Gee, really? Dylan ahead of his time... that’s so... expected.
Only Dylan -- two years into a recording, writing and performing career unmatched by anybody -- can astound and impress even beyond such high expectations.
The credit is to the performer, to be sure, but first I have to mention and thank whoever it was who unearthed those recordings, remastered and cleaned or whatever the hell else he or she did. From a purely sonic level, it is as high-quality as any live recording I’ve ever heard.
Halloween 1964, New York’s Philharmonic Hall. Bob Dylan, four albums down and many more to come.
Among the greatest joys of listening to the album is the enthusiasm that Dylan brings, even on “Don’t Think Twice,” that I’ve never quite heard come across. Known for wildly changing his songs in a live setting, Dylan had clearly started reinterpreting even in those days. On “Don’t Think Twice,” he adopts a sing-songy shout, nothing acidic about the tone of voice but just a greater urgency in being heard.
“Talkin’ John Birch Paranoid Blues” is the folk-protest movement’s greatest satire and it’s a shame the song has barely been heard. Dylan’s take on the red scare is more along the lines of pointing out its ridiculousness, rather than cowering from its wide-sweeping grasp. Did he really think the red-hunters were mostly a joke? Their motives and tactics certainly seem laughable, but scary if not in precision in effect.
One of the absolute bonuses of an 1964 Dylan live recording is getting to see the early gems, like “To Ramona” and “I Don’t Believe You,” holding their own up to the glorious classics. With a catalogue as large and varied as Dylan’s, songs inevitably fall through the cracks and the rediscovery is thrilling.
“Mama, You’ve Been on My Mind” appears on just the Bootleg Series, first the 1991 box set and then the Rolling Thunder set released in 2002. Each version different, each beautiful and energetic and never (before or now) on the mainstream radar. The tone of the song is a perfect analogy to the arc of Dylan’s career. The song ends with an equally sly and heartfelt “I'd just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear / As someone who has had you on his mind.” It’s late-stage puppy love and as Dylan’s career progressed, he hit pure infatuation (the remarkable Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde), heartbreak (John Wesley Harding) and depression (Blood on the Tracks).
But this set is young, vital, unjaded Dylan. He must have known he was important, but I doubt he could even imagine he’d be a legend, an icon.
Joan Baez joins Bob for four songs, trading whoops-we-messed-up-the-words wails to wide laughter. They’re not perfect, but they’re at once flawed and exquisite in harmony.
He giggles, he messes up, he babbles and it’s all engaging to hear. This is folk Dylan, not rock ‘n’ roll Dylan or the pain-in-the-ass Don’t Look Back Dylan. He’s in-between, so far unencumbered by stardom, and still enamored with Woody. He picks, plucks, strums and blows the harmonica -- and he has fun. The music is fresh and powerful, but mostly light enough still to spark a chuckle.
This isn’t a concert that truly defined any era of American music; it didn’t break any barriers; or cast turbulence in its wake. No guitars were set on fire, Shea Stadium wasn’t full, 500,000 people weren’t there, no Hells Angels induced deaths, not even a “Judas.” This is simply great songs, performed with passion and love by a man on the cusp of greatness. And it’s all the more interesting because he turned greatness into icon, into legend.

Dylan 1

I’ve felt that it was damn near my duty to post about the new Victoria’s Secret commercial for days now, so here goes.
Frankly, being a big fan of both underwear models and Bob Dylan, I think it’s incredibly cool. Beyond that, though, the reaction is rather muddied. The first reaction is a hearty Why? Why did Dylan do this (speculations to follow), but moreso, why did Victoria’s Secret recruit the (not-too-pleasantly) aged folksinger to hawk join a beauty in hawking bras?
It’s a juxtaposition on the oddest level. It was odd enough when the company’s add campaign simply featured the song.
To be sure, it’s a talk piece. Some of my favorite reads on the subject have been Slate (which links to the add), the Seattle Times and Pitchforkmedia, which led off a review of the new Bootleg series album with its own analysis:
“My favorite thing about Bob Dylan's Victoria's Secret commercial is the (not so farfetched) possibility that there are viewers in America who won't recognize Dylan's smarmy mug, and, incapable of sketching a line from his figure to the song playing in the background, must contend with an otherwise preposterous cameo, a wrinkled, peculiar-looking man nonsensically interrupting the provocative struts of an underwear model selling prepackaged titillation. Without the proper context, it's impossible to know that the weathered face peering awkwardly at the camera once hocked his very own brand of shockingly alluring taboos, as furtive and dangerous as pink satin bras and lace-edged panties.”
Apparently, Dylan gave a newspaper interview in 1965, when he slyly said the the biggest temptation to selling out came from “Ladies undergarments.”
When it comes down to Dylan’s motive, my best guess is sort of a mixture between mild boredom and a resurgence in Dylan’s drive to simply weird people out. And why not?
With Modest Mouse (Nissan), the Who (Hummer), and Nick Drake (VW) all in surprisingly tasteful auto commercials and Moby’s quest to deliver Play to television one track at a time, television advertising has changed remarkably. For one thing, while still annoying, ads are more artful in general. I can’t figure out for a second how that sells more product, but ad agencies seem to be reaching for the creative (ie. that Office Space-esque Burger King campaign).
And what is “selling out,” other than an over-used, ill-defined term used only to decry performers. Is taking money for playing music selling out? If so, then everybody always has sold out. I understand that advertising a product is a different beast, but quality music beats that damned obnoxious Chevy “Wrap it up, I’ll take it” jingle any day of the week.
When it comes down to it, the Victoria’s Secret commercial is eminently watchable. It’s curious, to be sure, but it’s not particularly surprising or troubling. It’s just another curveball from the greatest chameleon in American music. Sure it’s not as monumental as going electric, or going acoustic, or going Christian. But just as Time Out of Mind and Love and Theft show his music is as good as ever, an over the top haunting image in a Victoria’s Secret commercial shows he’s as unpredictable as ever.

Wireless

Catfish Vegas, now comin' at ya wireless style. I just got the capability to go mobile - free wireless card.
Outstanding.

Opening day

Matt Williams and Jay Bell tossed out the first pitch(es) at BOB today. And not to the catchers, to Finley and Gonzo. It was beautiful - two early franchise heroes, the pair whose home-plate embrace epitomized the World Series title - kicking off the new season.
It’s a smooth shift, from the NCAA championship last night to the Diamondbacks first game today. And let’s hope the first inning is a good indication of the rest of the year. Johnson gets out of a bases-loaded jam with a strikeout. Gonzo homers, with two outs. That’s the value of Richie Sexon. Last year Gonzo never would have gotten a pitch to hit with two outs. But with Sexon on deck, Gonzo homers. Outstanding.
But with just three hits on the day, a victory was too much to expect.
Perhaps the biggest worry is Jose Valverde, the hard-throwing youngster nicknamed Papa Grande. In the closer role for now, Valverde gave up three runs in the ninth, putting the game out of reach.
Gonzo’s second homer, in the ninth, was a sad moot point.

A medium pace or gently?

I saw a two-man guitar/vocal combo cover the foulest of Adam Sandler and Tenacious D down at Bison last night. Hillarious.
Few things are funnier than faux serious music with dirty words. This isn't layered, well though out comedy, it's not slapstick. It's nothing more than foul language disguised as a love ballad. And it's great. Both tunes got big time props from the patrons.

And down goes Duke

Nothing is nicer in college basketball than when Duke loses. And rare are the moments I become a UConn Huskies fan.
But the Blue Devils are the Yankees, are the Lakers, are the Cowboys of Troy and Emmitt. They're arrogant, machine-like winners. They're damn good, but they're smug - as if victory is their birthright. They're efficient and appalling in what they expect - and how they expect to be treated. They're sleek progress, shiny condominiums atop bulldozed meadows. They win. A lot. But each time they fall the sport gets better.
Dick Vitale can blow this one out his ass. He's a worthless, obnoxious little troll who's somehow made a career out of being a Duke fan. Analyst - yeah right. His geeky slogans are mind-numbing.
I hope Monday's championship stacks up to the down-to-the-final minute semis. Bless Okafor and Bynum for playing like they love the game.

Inane

How specialized can these online polls get? This one could only interest regular readers of the Times opinion page and the blogs that feast on the columns.
I gotta say it's a bit scary how quickly I rushed to find out I was...
"Bob Herbert!
You're not the most sparkling writer, but one of the most solid and selfless on the Op-Ed staff. You focus on New York politics, the poor, race issues, and civil liberties. You like to quote others, and rarely place yourself in your columns. You keep it real. Seriously."

Go play Which New York Times Op-Ed Columnist Are You?
Also check out all results.
(via Pandagon)