More Fun WIth Google News

I'm not great with technology. That's why I love it when technology fucks up. Revenge. It's a dish best served with cooked cabbage and some shitty captions.

Apparently, lending and reforms aren't two of Oprah's things.

At least they left us holiday cookies in super-fun shapes.

No, that's not accurate. Any time of year is appropriate for a financial shitstorm.


Perfect.

Huey Lewis and the Google News

I could read about anything in the world.

Every corner of the news universe is at my fingertips.

I am a modern, connected man.

And what do I do with this nearly unlimited power? This (only after learning to operate my Mac's Grab program):

Who needs Europe when we've got Clooney's eyes and that superpower Oprah uses to control America's minds?

If you believe the picture, the headline should have been: Smoking, childhood stupidity link found.

"I'm GM's new 230 MPG Volt, bitch!"

Person? Which one? AP, it would have been better to just say "Giant, Talking Orange Tic Tac says."

Stay tuned, we'll be back with Jaywalking, followed by your late local news.

We always lose the ones we love

With heavy hearts and tear-filled eyes, we announce the passing of Sarah Palin’s 2012 presidential aspirations. They were brutally murdered Friday, July 3 at a news conference where Palin announced her resignation as governor of Alaska.

Born sometime during the middle of the 2008 McCain-Palin campaign, her presidential aspirations for 2012 were resilient, even at birth. Early in life, they fought through the tough situations the aspiration’s older siblings — Palin’s mouth and her lack of a basic knowledge of civics — often put them in.

Her presidential aspirations came into their own near the end of the 2008 campaign when they pushed Palin to go rogue. It was a great time for them. But, times wouldn’t stay this happy forever. They were blamed for the 2008 election-night defeat she was more than partially responsible for. Her aspirations have also sucked her into several public controversies, including a recent spat with David Letterman.

Despite their complete lack of a sense of humor, her political aspirations will be missed by Republicans and Democrats alike. Those on the right will now have to find new political eye candy, while the left may face at least a half-competent opponent in 2012.

Palin’s 2012 presidential aspirations are survived by her husband, Todd; her five children, Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper, and Trig; a book deal; the hopes and dreams of the SNL writer’s room; myriad corporate speaking gigs; a sticky copy of Who’s Nailin’ Palin; and several gallons of moose chili.

Report: White people still not certain what Cinco de Mayo is really about

WASHINGTON — Americans will drink tequila and eat guacamole today to celebrate a holiday a new report says few Caucasians completely understand.

“Even halfway through the research, it became pretty clear that white people have little-to-no clue about the reason Mexicans celebrate Cinco de Mayo,” said Juan Tavares, president of The Mexican Coalition for Understanding — the organization that commissioned the study. “Most non-Mexicans only thought it was a festival centered either around tequila or seven-layer dip. Piñatas were also frequently mentioned.”

Many Americans who ventured an actual guess as to the celebration’s origins thought it was Mexico’s Independence Day, which is actually on September 16. But, the Cinco de Mayo holiday actually commemorates the over-matched Mexican army’s defeat of powerful French forces on May 5, 1862 in the Battle of Puebla.

In fact, the holiday is primarily celebrated in the state of Puebla and sporadically throughout the rest of the country.

“I know it has something to do with Mexico, that’s why I’m buying the three T’s — tortillas, Tecate and tequila — but that’s all I really know,” Steve Wilson said.

Wilson, a 25-year-old TV salesman at the Silver Springs Best Buy, is planning a fiesta with his girlfriend and an overwhelmingly white collection of their friends. It was unclear whether there would be a piñata, but Wilson said, for sure, he would be taking tomorrow off with a “huge ass tequila hangover.”

According to Tavares, this is a pretty typical gringo celebration of Cinco de Mayo. Most white people get together at what they call a fiesta, buy some brightly colored paper plates, wear sombreros, drink tequila — to excess — drunkenly swing at piñatas and eat chips, salsa, guacamole, he added.

Although it is the most visible sign of the gringo’s misunderstanding of Cinco de Mayo, it certainly isn’t the only one.

“I love Cinco de Mayo, but I’ve always kind of wondered why it was on May 5th every year,” Wilson said.

General Motors gets a little more specific

Yesterday was sad. GM announced it plans on cutting 21,000 jobs and four brands in an attempt dredge some profitability out of the murky waters of near-bankruptcy. Soon, we’ll also be sorrowfully waving bye-bye to Pontiac, Saturn, Saab and Hummer.

This really marks the end for those dedicated few still waiting for the release of a new Pontiac Aztek. And, with the phase-out of Hummer, experts are estimating that it will now be 143 percent harder to automatically identify a douchebag.

“Without Hummers, douchebags may be forced to drive ‘normal people’ cars — hiding themselves from the untrained eye,” said David Baker, the head of the automotive division of The Douche Institute — a not-for-profit that works to educate the public about how to identify and avoid a douchebag. “But the period of blending in won’t be long. You can never underestimate the doucheyness of these douchebags. The Hummer may be gone, but they’ll find another vehicle to turn into a lighthouse for douchebags and humongous fucking tools everywhere.”

The loss of the Saab brand also pangs my heart a bit. Where are the pretentious going to put their “You must be Categorically Impaired” bumper stickers? Or their “Fair Trade or NO Trade” stickers? What will become of all the unstuck “Gore/Leibermann 2000” and “My other car is a compost-and-hummus-burning motorized unicycle” bumper stickers? I guess they’ll all have to be framed and hung over the stacks of Morrissey, Radiohead and Dave Matthews Band CDs, or encased in the glass coffee tables that hold America’s stacks of McSweeney’s Quarterlies.

Reality TV stars get married, for real. We think.

The gays are getting married in Iowa. Well, that probably effectively eliminates the Hawkeye State from getting a spot on the Glenn Beck Comedy Extravaganza Tour — you know, the one that will make Carlos Mencia look like Richard fucking Pryor, by comparison. OK, maybe not Pryor. But George Lopez.

Frankly, I’m happy for those same-sex couples getting hitched in Iowa. And, maybe that will soften the rest of the often-frigid Midwest to the idea that same-sex couples deserve to have the same rights as straight couples.

After all, if Spencer and Heidi — from The Hills’ fame — are allowed to get married, gay and lesbian couples definitely should be able to.

I’m much more comfortable with the idea of millions of loving same-sex couples finally getting to honor their feelings in the same way straight couples have been allowed to for hundreds of years than the thought of a blond-white-goateed Willem-Dafoe knockoff marrying a skeleton with breast implants. Here’s an idea: let’s ban fake-reality-TV-star marriage.

If you think a man marrying another man is trampling on the sacred institution of marriage, but don’t think a wedding between two hologram-thin caricatures of the decline of humanity — not to mention a divorce rate hovering around 50 percent, nationally — has any affect on the bonds of matrimony, you probably already have your Glenn Beck standup tickets.

The whole Spencer and Heidi thing could just be scripted. The rest of their fucking lives seem to be. Instead of following the fake-celebrity-marriage bullshit as it plays out on the covers of check-stand publications, why not watch some real-life love stories finally get the socially legitimate ending the protagonists have been seeing in the movies since the invention of the medium?

Oh God! I just had this horrible thought: what if these Hills “stars” multiply? They’ll spit out a dozen new reality TV personalities that will work in packs to lower the collective IQ of the country another 50 points. We’ll barely have the brainpower to run all of our basic functions. I’d much rather my kid be a homosexual than a reality TV star.



Sort-of-related video

Tea is for drinking, not for bagging

There’s nothing more stimulating than a little faux-Revolutionary-Era tea bagging to protest stimulus spending — and on tax day, no less. It’s like a small, kitschy and entirely overblown “Fuck You” from a couple centuries back.


The irony of a group of people, who, taken as a whole, would be appalled by the more prurient connotation of their tea bagging protests — and anything sexual that isn’t marital missionary position (Don’t you dare put those fucking legs up, either!) strictly for the purpose of procreation — holding these tea bag-a-thons has been well explored. And there’s not a sexual takeoff on the stimulus plan that hasn’t been beaten into the ground. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t still funny, and not just in that fifth-grade sexual way, either.

It’s also funny in a snicker-in-the-back-of-history-class way. That image of a collection of rich, gentrified sexta-to-octagenarians running around with brown face on, throwing Lipton Cold Brew Iced Tea bags into the water hazard on hole 7 of their country club just makes me giggle.

On second thought, these people aren’t going to be doing such a historically accurate redux. They wouldn’t paint their faces and dress like Indians. When you have a Roman numeral after your name, looking like anything but a pasty old fart isn’t at all acceptable.

The beautiful thing is, these people have the right to stage these kinds of protests. It’s still in the Constitution. George W. Bush gave it his damnedest to rid us of it — along with most of the other amendments in the Bill of Rights — but we still have the right to peaceably assemble. And what’s more peaceable than a bunch of trust funders getting together to tea bag their government?

The truth is, this thing isn’t alone in its absurdity — most protests look stupid. The Left, whether it’s an overly outlandish gay rights demonstration or the old school hippie sit-in (protesting at it’s laziest), has just as silly-looking civil disobedience as this Tea Party Day.

When you get to the core of all this tea bagging, these conservatives have legitimate ideological beef. Fiscal conservatism is (read: was in pre-Bush days) one of the tenets of the Right. Stand on your principles. It would be the first time in a decade, but you’ve got to start somewhere. My problem is that the philosophy and the actions that they’d like to use — spending freezes and tax cuts — is just as ugly and hirsute as the balls their tea bagging brings to mind.

The last little chuckle I get is from this thought: The 773 scheduled tea-bag-party protests of the Obama administration’s $787 billion economic stimulus plan has inadvertently, but pretty effectively (for the short-term), stimulated the tea industry — I’d assume so, anyway, because these people had to go buy the tea they were using or at least replace the stuff they threw in the water or carried around outside.

It’s just too bad we don’t grow much tea in America.

In other news, Rod Blagojevich is hoping to appear on a Survivor-for-quasi-celebs reality TV show. Since he was just indicted, heading to the Costa Rican jungle to film a reality show doesn’t seem like the best plan. But, after seeing what reality TV did for Flavor Flav’s career, who can really blame the guy?

I bet Paul Krugman gets laid all the time

As it sits right now, the Dow is up 158 points on the day, to 7,908.07. That number has changed 12 times since I put the period at the end of that sentence, and it will fluctuate roughly 36 million more times before I finish typing this.

It’s up. It’s down. You see, the stock market is like a woman, and a very fickle one, at that. She’s up one minute, paying dividends, smiling and making sandwiches. The next minute, she’s down. Ruining your life. Squandering your fortune. Not smiling or making sandwiches.

But it’s not totally like a woman. You don’t fuck the stock market; the stock market fucks you.

Lately, though, after it dipped below 7,000, the market has been rallying — and, like me, doing a lot less fucking these days. I keep hearing that this gain is due to the more positive news we’ve been hearing lately. The truth is, nobody can tell for sure.

The economy is weird. I don’t completely understand it — again, like a woman. I know it has certain parts, and those parts interact with each other in some mysterious way. But I don’t have a goddamn clue as to how those interactions create noticeable, outward reactions.

For me, the current stock market surge is like the female orgasm. Something caused it. It may have been something we did. It may have just been an accident. Or there may be divinity at work. The one thing we can be sure of is that the way we caused this one, definitely won’t work next time.

The only real thing I understand about the economy is that consumer confidence is huge. It’s flowers, chocolates and diamonds all rolled into one.

If we believe the economy is doing well, then it its. It’s the placebo effect. I believe this shitty male enhancement pill works, so it works. That might not be the best pharmaceutical example, actually. But the underlying philosophy is accurate.

I wish more things in my life worked like consumer confidence and the economy. I think I should be having sex with Scarlett Johansson, so I’m actually having sex with Scarlett Johansson. I think I really should be six inches taller, so I grow six inches. I think I should have enough hair to finally make paying $15 for a haircut actually seem like a sensible thing to do, and, voila, my hair starts growing again.

All of that stuff may just be a collection of pipe dreams, but there is one case where something in my life mimics the relationship between consumer confidence and the economy. And, again, it’s the female orgasm. I may not understand them, but when I think I gave a girl an orgasm, I gave a girl an orgasm. And that’s the truth — as long as you don’t ask her opinion on the matter.

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St. Patrick is rolling over in his grave

Creep uses St. Patty’s Day to inappropriately touch coworkers

DENVER — Picking up on an elementary school tradition, 46-year-old IT manager Michael Smith pinched every person in his office building that wasn’t wearing green today.

“He was pinching women and men, managers and secretaries, everyone,” Susan Green, a secretary at Smith’s office, said. “It was really inappropriate. Like, it wasn’t even really pinching sometimes. It was almost like Mike just wanted to touch people.”

Green said she was one of well over a hundred coworkers to be “pretty much groped” by Smith under the guise of the childish St. Patrick’s Day tradition.

“I told him I don’t have to wear green, because my name is Green,” she said. “He didn’t buy it, and sort of pinched, sort of caressed, my upper arm.”

Smith, who is not even Irish at all, claims he was just protecting the sacred holiday of St. Patrick’s Day.

“OH! Looks like you aren’t wearing green,” he said. “I’ve gotta pinch ya. Stay still, or I’ll pinch ya twice.”

Jim Powell — a coworker of Smith’s for the last four years and a victim of today’s touching spree — said this year’s incident is just the latest in a long line of inappropriate holiday behaviors Smith has exhibited over the six years since his wife divorced him.

“It’s not just the pinching on St. Patrick’s Day,” Powell said. “Mike goes around on Christmas with a mistletoe hat, trying to solicit kisses from all the women in the office. He even hopped around the office wearing bunny ears for Easter. At least he didn’t molest anyone that day — I don’t think he did, anyway.”

Green and Powell said they have no explanation for why Smith hasn’t been fired for sexual harassment yet.


Millions of fake Irish ignore tradition, look forward to getting hammered

BOSTON — Green. Shamrocks. Shitty, fake Irish accents. Leprechauns. The luck of the Irish.

They’re all associated with St. Patrick’s Day. But it isn’t any of those things that turn most Americans Irish on March 17.

It’s the drinking.

Several million Americans will become fake Irishmen today as an excuse to get drunk on a weeknight and puke rivers of regurgitated green beer into toilets all across the US.

“Woohoo! Let’s get drunk,” Jean LaPierre said. “Green beer. Irish Car Bombs. Let’s do it!”

LaPierre, a 22-year-old college student of French descent, says he and some friends are planning to “get shitfaced on Guinness” before going to the party at his local pub.

This kind of celebration is commonplace, especially among those who are self-identified heavy drinkers. And there is no ancestrial background that seems immune.

Abraham Meinkewitz, a 29-year-old Jewish sales rep from Queens, said he and his friends were going to drink Jameson’s “until we see leprechauns.”

“I’m probably just going to listen to some Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly while I drink some green beer,” said Ben Washington, a 24-year-old Black graduate student at Brown University. “Who knows, I may even watch The Departed, or just try to get into a drunken brawl.”

Although most Irish Americans seem to not care much about all the fake Irish people running around, some are annoyed by the fact that a lot of their non-Irish neighbors don’t understand the holiday.

“It started out as a religious feast,” Mick O’Sullivan said. “Now, all these morons do is go around pinching each other on the ass, drinkin’ too much and pukin’. The goddamn lightweights are sullying our sacred day.”

O’Sullivan said he isn’t too happy that people get to choose when to be Irish.

“No one wants to deal with the red hair,” O’Sullivan said. “And nobody wanted to be Irish when there was a potato famine. But now that being Irish is synonymous with being drunk as hell, well, now everyone’s on board.”

He said he’s not angry, but O’Sullivan does have a St. Patrick’s Day message for the fake Irish out there.

“Don’t be comin’ ‘round and talkin’ to me in a fake Irish accent,” he said. “And the next one of you goddamn fake Irishman that says ‘Top o’ the mornin’ to ya’ or calls me a ‘lad’ is gonna get his ass beat.”

Headlines and Dumb Asses (aka creativity escapes me)

Note: I only read the headlines, not the stories. What do you want from me? I’m lazy, and it’s Friday.

U.S. will not attend U.N. conference on racism: What, we elect a black man president and then we play like racism is gone? That shit’s whack.

Jonas Bros. movie may foretell an end to innocence: I wish it were foretelling an end to their reign of terror. That’s a story I would read.

Octuplets’ mom turns down offer of a home and nursing care: Nayda, sweetie, now isn’t the time to be proud. It’s either this or porn. This seems more sensible than having to star in OctoMom 8: A Different Type of In Vitro Fertilization.

Man held after mailing HIV-tainted blood to Obama: You really know we’re poor when domestic terrorists don’t have the cash to afford anthrax, or anything good, and instead have to turn to their own blood — just because it’s free … and happens to contain the HIV virus.

How to get Michelle Obama's toned arms is right above this: Pentagon lifts media ban on photos of war dead. No comment.

Tom Brady marries Gisele Bundchen: The new Brangelina?: Don’t suppress your desire to come up with some stupid, bullshit celebrity-name mash-up. Just come out with it. BRADCHEN. On second thought, that sounds like the name of an Asian cable-news reporter.

Engaged Kendra Wilkinson Says She'll Miss Hugh Hefner: She must really love silky pajamas. In related news, David Baker Says He’ll Never Miss Kendra Wilkinson if She Drops Off the Face of the Earth, Fingers Are Reportedly Crossed.

Season tickets are more complicated than they used to be: You pay a shitload of money, you get a season’s worth of tickets, and you hand them to the elderly usher. Either that, or you scalp them. What’s so fucking complicated about that? The only thing complicated might be finding the money to actually pay for the damn things.

Canada gets tough on gangs: It’s aboot time. Those roving gangs of hockey-loving, Molson-drinking, Rush fanatics were really bothering the polar bears. Did I get all the Canadian stereotypes in there, aye? Shit, I forgot this, “Hey you crazy Canucks stop stealing our ham and calling it bacon.” There. Now it’s complete.

In 4-diet study, all lost weight if they watched their calories: Thank you, USA Today. Also in the health section: In a 4-apartment study, all males got erections when they watched pornography.

McCain backs Obama Iraq pullout plan: You don’t need to look at financial indicators to tell you the world is ending. This headline is enough.

Dumb Ass of the Week

Most people are picking on Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal after what was an atrocious response to Obama’s first address to a joint session of Congress on Tuesday night. I’d also like to personal thank Gov. Jindal for ruining my favorite show, 30 Rock. Now, every time Kenneth the Page spits out a hilariously folksy colloquialism, my mind not longer triggers laughter, instead, it harkens back to that God-awful story-time session. I’d rather have had resident Republican-fake-George-Hamilton John Boehner read the modern children’s classic, Little GOP Train That Fucking Derailed and Tried to Take America Down With It.

Why has all the laughter gone away?

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But Jindal would be the trendy pick. And I’m not sure I’d be confusing incompetence with dumbassity. That’s a common mistake.

Earning this week’s award for Dumb Ass Behavior in a Leading Political or Current Events Role is going to an ensemble cast of morons: Any cable news person currently discussing who the Republicans are running in 2012.

What these assholes fail to realize is that if we don’t turn this shit-barge around, there may not be any 2012 election to worry about. There were no elections in Mad Max — at least not one you'd want to watch Wolf Blitzer cover.

And the weight of fault doesn’t rest totally on the shoulders of the anchors and pundits — they’re just the faces. The producers are to blame, too. They can share in this Dumb Ass of the Week honor.

I wish they would spend the time they waste on this 2012 bullshit on in-depth stories about the stimulus package. Maybe even pieces that help the average lip-chewing shithead to understand just what the fuck has happened to us and how we are trying to fix it. God, I really wish they would pay someone on TV to do that sort of important journalism.

Night of a million claps

That Barack Obama is so hot right now. In his first speech to a joint session of Congress, he got more clap than the porn industry. Gave out more autographs than Jeri Ryan at Comic-Con. Garnered more applause than a … a … an applause sign. He’s so hot that I got a heat rash from his searing popularity while I was just sitting on my couch watching him speak.

But President Obama wasn’t the only one burning up the airwaves last night. There were plenty of things that were hot as hell. And here’s your guide to what was up, down, hot, not, cold, bold, lame or like totally OMG!!!

Hot:

- Clapping: The act of putting your hands together in a percussive gesture of approval is always hot when a president speaks in front of a joint session of Congress. It also acts as a thermometer — telling us what is hot and what’s just lukewarm.

- Standing as a bi-partisan gesture: Removing one’s self from one’s seat usually pairs well with clapping — capitalizing on some of the heat clapping creates. But during Obama’s speech there was an unusual amount of bi-partisan uprightness. Look out in the future, standing may even be so hot it surpasses meeting invites as the Beltway’s favorite empty bi-partisan gesture.

- Molestation: Last night the flame of uncomfortable touching was burning super hot, especially as another form of bi-partisanship, and, apparently, as an acceptable replacement for the regular handshake. The only way Obama could have enjoyed all of that is if he were rolling on X.

- Eric Holder: Being chosen as the man in the secure, undisclosed location is a sign of how scorching hot you are — they have to contain your hotness so nobody gets hurt. Actually, for all of these big political events, there’s always a member of the Cabinet who is taken to a secure, undisclosed location so there will be someone left to run the country in case all the other important people are killed. The only drawback for Holder is that I’m about 98 percent sure the secure, undisclosed location is actually the lockbox they kept Cheney in for the last eight years.

- Making history: Everything about the address was historic. The first time a black president has spoken to a joint session of Congress. The first time a black first lady was in attendance. The first time a black president was nearly booed by the Republican section of the audience during a joint session of Congress. The first time Nancy Pelosi smiled during a joint session — a joint session of Congress, that is — as Speaker of the House. The first time many of the southern Republican members of Congress have ever made eye contact with a black man.

- Education: Judging from the rousing claps and bi-partisan standing that occurred during the section in Obama’s speech about education, it’s pretty damn hot. Hopefully some of that hotness can warm up some of more underfunded schools that have gone without heat for the last eight years.

- Supporting our troops: The patriotic, military sentiment was even hotter last night than during the peak of the magnetic-car-decoration phase. I wonder if some of this hotness was produced by a surprise appearance by country singer Toby Keith, who apparently — before the speech — was in the hallway threatening to stick a boot in the ass of the last member of Congress to stand up anytime the troops were even mentioned.

- Loving America: The longest applause of the night was probably for a part in the speech about everyone’s love of our country. The first one to sit down would have been branded a goddamn commie, stripped naked, spray painted red and thrown out into the streets of DC.

- Loving the band, America: Still not so hot.

Surprise hotness flair-ups
- Joe Biden: Obama said, and this is a direct quote, “Nobody messes with Joe.” Really? But the mention by Obama, and an assignment to do something that will give Biden a break from his usual daily routine — mainly roaming around Washington talking to homeless people about Scranton — has made Joe Biden hot, most likely for the first time.

- Oversight: The mention of oversight got a bi-partisan round of applause and a little stand-up session. That’s kind of weird for oversight to catch fire now, because it has been absent in Washington for about the last decade.

Honorable mention: Complete sentences

Not:

- State of the Union: That’s exactly what it was. But because of the disdain the public has showed for the phrase we now have to refer to this as a speech to a joint session of Congress — or the definition of the State of the Union. I think State of the Union has switched into the not category because of jokes like this one: “State of the Union, ha, it’s going to be one word long — fucked.” I think I’m mostly responsible for that.

- Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi: The choice of an olive green poncho-like garment was the worst fashion decision of the night — which is saying a lot, since Hilary Clinton’s neon-pink jacket is wholly responsible for the retinal attachment surgery I have the pleasure of suffering through later this week. Come on, Nancy, this is history, not a trip to your fucking faith healer.

- Banks: There was no applause or standing ovation for the banks. More than that, they were a target. When Obama said, “It’s not about helping the banks, it’s about helping the people,” the room exploded. I guess on the meter of hotness, banks are about as sizzling as three-day old oatmeal.

- Government aesthetics: Goddamn, we elect some old, ugly people, don’t we? It looked like they were cutting to a bingo crowd at a retirement home in Uglyville, Florida. Even bringing Mickey Rourke in would have improved the overall attractiveness of the room.

- Post-Clap Arthritic reactions: The only way arthritis is hot is if Bengay is involved. All that clapping has to have an effect on those old hands and wrists. I’d hate to think that would slow down the completely un-ironic TWITtering going on, on the hill.

- Chairs: When standing is hot, chairs are not. Unless the chairs are physically hot, and then standing is just necessary.

- Columns: As if it wasn’t bad enough that our handsome, vibrant president had to stand in front of the poncho-wearing, Gecko-esque Speaker of the House and his sometime comatose VP, there were those awful columns. Gold-veined, black columns look trashy. I don’t care how expensive they were; it makes the chamber look like Cezar’s Place, a Caesar’s Palace-knockoff in Winnemucca.

- CNN commentary: Those watching the address on CNN were treated to some of the least-hot analysis of the night. It was blazing hot to talk about hip-hop and politics during Hurrican Katrina. All the scorch has totally been removed from that flame, now, though. It was surprising that hip-hop and politics were even still warm after new RNC Chairman Michael Steele’s recent assault on people’s sensibilities. But that heat went completely cold, the hot went totally not, after an exchange between CNN pundit (and cable fishing show host) Roland Martin and Anderson Cooper.

Martin, commenting on the ambitiousness of Obama’s agenda, compared the president’s comments to those of Kanye West before one of his albums came out. Apparently, Kanye said he wanted it to be better than a Stevie Wonder classic.

Anderson followed up by saying that Republicans must be 50 Cent, then.

If you ignore the total stupidity of it, I guess that analogy sort of works. 50 Cent is always talking about being “In da club.” For Republicans, that club just happens to be of the country variety.

A new favorite Daily Show moment.

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Unusual Suspect

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In non-Obama news, Joe Francis of Girls Gone Wild fame was one of the smut slingers who was asking the federal government, seriously, to bailout the porn industry. Well, today, we got A New Definition of the Porn Bailout.

I'm not sure porn needs another Angelina-Jolie knock off, but I fear Nadya better take it or this may happen.

The Intolerant Mr. Buttars

The Iraq War was supposed to make us safer. Instead, it has driven up the number of young Muslims so overwrought with anti-American sentiment that they eventually express it through the killing of our soldiers in Iraq — or the innocent civilians on our soil. Although he’d never admit any of this, George Bush, for eight years, was probably the best recruiting tool Osama Bin Laden ever had.

That brings us to Utah State Senator Chris Buttars, who is … well … out of his fucking mind. (And, he’d tell you that’s exactly what the liberal media wants people to believe.) Buttars, in one of the funniest — that is if it weren’t so horrifying — interviews ever done for a documentary, compared members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community to radical Muslims, saying they were the greatest threat to America. No one should be surprised, Buttars has been fighting for the last eight years to keep any bill with the letters “g”, “a” and “y” remotely close to each other from getting a sniff in the Utah Legislature.

I bet his pal Gayle Ruzicka at the Eagle Forum, a conservative lobby in Utah, is more than happy Buttars was able to join forces with her and save the legislature from all things gay. But really, how does Mr. Buttars find the time, especially when he has to continue his personal crusade to destroy tact, human decency, dignity and the shred of normalcy Utah somehow holds on to when viewed through the eyes of the rest of the world? I very well may be wrong about the normalcy part, actually.

I’ll never know the answer, but I bet if we ever could safely get close enough to Dick Cheney to study how that monster refuels itself, we’d find a lot of insights into the seemingly never-ending energy supply of the Intolerant Mr. Buttars. You may not remember, but Buttars has not only shown that he’s a bigot, but his comments last year on the senate floor smack of racist tendencies as well. Either way, he’s so damn proud of his eight years of holding back gay rights that he’s created this delusional, self-aggrandized view of himself as the de facto defender of the sanctity of straight, Mormon family unit. I'm just assuming the Mormon part, but it seems like a logical assumption to make.

Well, I think that’s all about to end.

I’m about as much of a weatherman as Joaquin Phoenix is a rapper, but I see Buttars’ comments getting at least a sprinkle of national exposure. And that exposure would be good. The more people are talking about this, the more light is shed on just how insane this man actually is.

I have a theory: When you’re exposed to unbridled evil, you have no choice — as a cognizant human being — to rebel against that evil, or at least have sympathy for those that are directly harmed. Why do you think so many soldiers come back from a war and suddenly go all peacenik? They’ve looked evil in the eyes — the killing of other humans being the evil in question — and have no choice but to be repulsed by it.

I hope that happens with the Buttars situation. This crisp, clear vision of insanity may finally open some less-crazy, Buttars-ish people to see the issues through the haze and maybe cause a slide to the middle on some of these issues. Those distancing themselves from crazy extremism tend to do that — act more moderate to compensate.

In the least, I think the other members of the GOP Caucus in the Utah Legislature — those who have even a fiber of shame or human decency left — will be humiliated, and start apologizing for their crazy ol’ Uncle Buttars. Maybe, and this may be wishful thinking on my part, they will express that remorse by opening up a little bit to the people at Common Ground when it comes to some of the more moderate gay rights initiatives. I’m not Buttars enough to think Utah will legalize gay marriage in the next 10 years. But, if visitation rights, or something similar, comes out of this, that would be great. And wouldn't that be the biggest slap in the face to Buttars; if he were — through his hateful comments — obliquely responsible for the advancement of gay rights in Utah.

There’s already some indication this sympathy for gay rights may happen. The Deseret News ran a story that said Utah Republicans are pushing to get new work started on versions of the Common Ground bills that they say would establish a middle ground on some of the issues. And all of that most likely sprung from the comments Buttars made.

Even if the insanity of one Chris Buttars does end up making a positive difference, some people probably still wonder if the man himself could ever reform. Well, Alan Greenspan went from being so in love with free-market capitalism that he wanted to give Adam Smith a handjob, to admitting in The Financial Times that we’re going to have to nationalize some banks to stabalize the economy.

So, Buttars, there is hope.

It sounds like Mr. Buttars is a shoe-in for Dumb Ass of the Week, but he goes above and beyond dumb ass. So far, in fact, that I feel like it would be an insult to him to bestow that honor upon him.

So, this week, it’s a tie between the chimp cartoonist and the person in Connecticut who owned the actual chimp that ripped someone’s face off.

First, the chimp cartoon was not only racist, but it was stupid. If you’re going to push the line with some good satire — fine by me. This was not good satire. Or even satire at all, really. It’s just stupid, racist bullshit. I actually can’t believe Carlos Mencia wasn’t the artist.

Second, the chimp owner: Why the fuck do you give a chimp Xanax? You can’t just medicate a wild animal into submission. I hope this might cement in people’s heads that wild animals are … how to put this? … wild fucking animals. At anytime, they are liable to do something insane and wild — hence the name — including ripping your goddamn face clean off of your head.

Lastly, a request: Enough of the Obama-Hope-Picture Effect on everything. We get it, it’s great; you’re red, beige and blue. Good for you. You’re still not the fucking President.


A different form of Buttars being Buttars. Hopefully we can get a Worst Persons repeat.

From the department of hopelessly trite wordplay: Obaminations

It could have made a great sitcom in the Oscar Madison and Felix Unger vein. Jokes about doing dishes molded into politicized versions about the fiscal policy needed to pick up after eight years of possibly the messiest houseguest in the history of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.



But, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

New Hampshire Sen. Judd Gregg, a conservative Republican — who voted with his party 77.4 percent of the time (according the Washington Post’s voting profile of Gregg) — finally came to a conclusion anyone devoting three seconds of intelligent thought about his appointment as Secretary of Commerce had long ago: This probably is a bad marriage.

Maybe even worse than Pam Anderson and [insert egomaniacal cock rocker here] or Liz Taylor and absolutely anyone.

Gregg certainly would have represented a nearly essential foodstuff in the Cabinet of rivals Obama has been shopping for since his election last November. But in a slot so entrenched in some of the most divisive differences between Democrats and Republicans, it never seemed like a good fit.

As a fair trade disciple and so-called fiscal conservative — a label I’d argue really doesn’t apply to 99.9 percent of those who have served in the government in any capacity in the last eight years — Gregg would have clashed with almost everything Obama would want to do. He certainly wasn’t in love with the nearly $800 billion centerpiece of the president’s economic recovery plan. Although he abstained from voting on the first Senate version of the bill, I imagine he was itching to jump into the ideological fray — and not on Obama’s side.

I don’t doubt that Gregg is intelligent and well qualified for the position at Commerce, which is pretty damn important. He sat on the Budget Committee and, judging from some of the things the man says — aside from the less-than-intellectually-striking football metaphor he used to explain his reasons for withdrawing his nomination — he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. The problem is this: There are a lot of smart, well-qualified people in Washington that are so stymied by their own ideological convictions, and so entrenched in party politics, that they act as nothing more than an anchor point used to tow the party line.

Obama’s attempt at bipartisanship has run into this trap at nearly every turn, and the Gregg back-out is just another bullet for those armed with the antiquated “Obama is all fluffy hope and no practical change” weapon — I guess the antiquated part is just wishful thinking on my part. They’ll say, “Bipartisanship is a dream, and a stupid one.” I think that’s probably wrong.

But, for me, the worst consequence of this rehashing of mostly failed campaign rhetoric is that it doesn’t fit at all into the mosaic my mind is starting to piece together about the Obama Presidency. He strikes me as a pragmatist — something I can appreciate in a politician, especially a new-era Depression one. When Obama says things like, “When the town is burning down, you don’t waste time discussing political affiliations; everyone grabs a hose” (an admittedly rough paraphrase of a pretty damn good statement regarding the current Washington situation), it shows he’s just a man willing to do what it takes to find a solution that works.

However — like many — I’m not sure this Gregg decision reflects that particularly pragmatic side of Obama, either. I would say it’s more a product of the president’s want to be the new Abraham Lincoln, emancipating Americans from financial slavery — only, this Emancipation Proclamation would actually need to free people from foreclosure and job loss, not just make it sound like that’s the case. (Or maybe, in this quagmire, the simple gesture may be enough?) And that’s fine. Lincoln is Obama’s hero. No one is stopping me from pecking the keys on this computer, like my heroes did — most likely on typewriters, actually.

The fact is the Gregg situation would likely have been framed exactly in the manner I suggested earlier — a man finally coming to the realization that the situation simply isn’t going to work out. That is, had there not been any other missteps in the nomination process. Now, it all seems like a symptom of a bigger problem for the president [1], and I have no illusions about this not being the way the Gregg story will be framed by a healthy portion of DC pundits. The only “win” for the Obama Administration is that Gregg’s withdraw had absolutely nothing to do with tax problems.

I guess there may be one other positive way to look at Obama’s nomination woes: In a time when we’re losing jobs by the hundreds of thousands, it’s comforting to know someone is still hiring.

[1]: I think this problem may be nothing more than another projection of Obama’s pragmatic leanings. It sounds a little crazy, right? Well, think about this: Obama overlooked (maybe not intentionally, but maybe subconsciously) some things about nominees that even some crazy Washingtonians saw as very highly qualified for the positions they were slated to hold. He thought, regardless of other circumstances, these people were the practical choices for their positions. Is this an expression of a pragmatic focus on progress and productivity? I tend to think so.

Other jokes and notes that didn’t fit into the semi-adult tone of the previous piece:

- I’m about as shocked about Sen. Gregg backing out of his nomination as I would be if you told me Joaquin Phoenix was now trying to legally marry a dead squirrel he scrapped off of a mountain road.

- I found myself at a lesbian poetry reading the other night. I felt as out of place as Tom Daschle at an H & R Block.

- A fake news headline: President Obama having a harder time filling his Cabinet than most unemployed Americans.

- I’d also like to propose a moratorium on the media’s use of the phrase “mea culpa.” (Not a joke, just a suggestion.)

Mr. Obama, what do you think about the new Baconator at Wendy's?

I stole this page from the notebook of Michael Fletcher, reporter on the national desk at the Washington Post.

Potential questions to ask Obama at his first prime-time press conference

In this stimulus package, how important is the creation of long-term jobs?

What kind of pickle do you prefer?

What could the effects of shortsightedness be if jobs that help stabilize the economy long-term are overlooked in the passing of this legislation?

Do you think Jessica Simpson looks fat?

Are you worried at all about the bill going back to the house to face a Democratic majority that seems unwilling to play bi-partisan ball?

*****Oh, speaking of ball, what do you think about Alex Rodriguez admitting to taking a banned substance?*****

Do you have a favorite character from High School Musical?

Your foreign policy team includes heavyweights like Vice President Joe Biden and Secretary of State Hilary Clinton, so how do you keep them from stepping on each other’s toes, which is what some say is happening with the visits Mr. Biden has been making recently?

Clintons. Clintons. Oh! Who is your favorite Clinton? Hilary? Bill? George? Or that big red dog? Wait, that’s Clifford. Shit.

Some of the picks for your economic team seem to be rivals. Do you ever worry about their inability to do anything but bicker about ideology?

Who’s better: Bob Barker or Drew Carey?

Note: The stars indicate the question he wisely chose.

I know they didn't allow follow-ups, but they certainly should have allowed Fletcher to ask this: "In light of my last question, Mr. Obama, do you think they should revoke my press credentials?"

Even though he wasted an opportunity to ask an even remotely pertinent question during President Obama’s first primetime press conference, Fletcher probably has suffered enough ridicule. So he’s not my Dumb Ass of the Week.

That honor goes to 33-year-old Nadya Suleman, the woman who just had octuplets.

Here are the facts: She is an unemployed grad student living at her parents house, who already has six kids under the age of 8 and decided it would be an excellent idea to have six embryos placed in her uterus.

Now, with no job and no male counterpart, she gets to take care of 14 in-vitro-fertilized droolers needing food, diapers and emotional support. All while going to graduate school to get her master’s in counseling (After somehow getting a bachelor’s in child development, which she’ll put to use). And, she'll need it. The counseling, that is, not the degree.

What the fuck happened to crazy, single females getting like 60-some-odd cats?

It’s just so much messier when they use children as a balm for their emotional injuries. And, here's a memo to Ms. Suleman: No man in his right mind is going to go within a fucking mile of you. If you can scare a guy off with one kid, you might be able to kill one dead with 14 little crymachines running around puking all over.


Nadya Suleman (left) talks to Anne Curry (right). Photo from the Huffington Post

Bailouts, Big Brother and other attempted alliterations

It’s the Troubled Asset Relief Program—or TARP—and it’s coming to a bank near you, maybe.

I understand the acronym stems from a fairly aptly named—considering the original intent of the bill, not necessarily the application of it—piece of legislation.

But, we really named the bailout plan TARP? Like the flimsy plastic covering? The kind that rots easily in the sun, or blows away in the wind if not properly tied down (the latter being a metaphor for the need for strict oversight of the distribution of the $700 billion?)?

A TARP is the thing that’s going to shelter us from this financial shitrain?

“Get out the TARP, Timmy. CEOs ‘re fallin’ from the dadgum sky.”

Fuck. Why couldn’t we call it something that suggests a little more safety and security? HOUSE? CABIN? Or LEAN-TO—at the very least?

Those acronyms don’t encapsulate what the program was designed to do, though. But, it’s all just rhetoric, anyway. Hold on, I think I might be able to get those to actually work:

- HOUSE: Help Out the United States' Economy

- CABIN: Country All But InsolveNt

- LEAN-TO: Listen Everyone, America Now in The Outhouse (“In” would stand in for the hyphen.)

Maybe they don’t fit as perfectly as TARP, but any one of those acronyms would provide a better mental image. Every time a news anchor says, “Today, President Obama pushed for a limit on executive compensation to be included in TARP,” I imagine a hundred million Americans immediately seeing blue tarps shading them from the elements in some shantytown.

Come to think of it, HOUSE wouldn’t be much better. Hearing that would only remind people that in a few months they might not have one.

Big Brother, and not like the reality TV show

There’s been talk in the Utah Legislature about eliminating private club memberships. I must say: Finally. I’ve only been going to bars for 22 months, but I’m already sick of having to buy a membership. And you don’t even get a hat, or a patch, or a card that saves you five percent on balloon animals at the local carnival. Nothing. It’s a wholly benefit-less membership (except that you get to drink at that bar, which, depending on the bar, may not be too much of a boon), and—most importantly, it’s a hassle.

Utah can’t give drinkers too much unbridled hope for normalcy, though. Mixed in with the good news about bills eliminating these idiotic attempts at legislating morality is an affront to freedom so shocking, Dick Cheney even shakes his head in disgust at the prospect. There has been talk by a few Republicans to use electronic ID scanners to both verify age and create a database that would store information about every person entering a bar in Utah, on any given day.

This is why 1984 should be required reading.

Most legislators from both parties seem to at least recognize the Orwellian implications of such a database. But, some are still talking bullshit about the database helping law enforcement regulate drinking and driving—something even law enforcement officials seem reticent to acknowledge as a useful tool for them in the fight against drunk drivers. These same legislators, in virtually the same breath, start hedging their bets with: “Well, we know it would look like Big Brother, and that’s not the intent.” The very idea that they would even be thinking about—no matter how serious the consideration turns out to be—something so fucking intrusive should make all of our stomachs turn. And coming from a party that trumpets, at every opportunity, it’s relentless pursuit to remove government from your lives. Thirty-two hand slaps for all you Republican ideologues who have somehow forgotten this “important” axiom.

In reading the Deseret News article from Tuesday, Feb. 3 on the potential of a database, the last graf of the story also struck me.

“The LDS Church, which has long opposed what has been called "liquor by the drink," expressed interest in electronic ID verification systems during a recent meeting with Republican legislative leaders. The church has not taken a position on any proposals, however.”

My initial reaction was this: Can you take liquor intravenously and Big Joe would be cool with it? And, taking a gargantuan juvenile turn, where does the Butt Chug fit into that dogma?

The second thought that entered my head was far more significant, at least in a political/sociological sense. What interest does the LDS Church have in electronic ID verification systems—and I’m assuming, the database of information, which would result from that system, as well? For me, it would boil down to the fact that the LDS Church would have at least minor interest in crosschecking the sinner database with their own list of members. See who’s been a bad little puppy. I’m not sure what would come of that, but I just bet they’d like to know how many of their members are hanging at shitty dive bars at any given time.

Let me project what I think the Church’s response message would be to such an allegation: “We don’t want any of the sheep to stray, and this is just another tool to help people strive to live more Christ-like lives.”

To be fair, I don’t think the Mormons would be the only ones using the database to help achieve a higher calling, though. Religious organizations, in general, tend to have an interest in the holiness—or at least the appearance of something similar—by their leaders and followers. Especially the leaders. I can just see a newsletter headline from any church, of any sect:

“Worship leader caught attending local bar, loses job

UTAH—Thanks to the new Utah sinner database, our worship leader has been removed from office for hanging out at the Dawg Pound.”

Who’s to say employers wouldn’t try to see when their employees frequented bars? Or, what if the electronic verification makes its way into your local gas station or supermarket?

That freedom-crushing snowball could certainly gain momentum, quickly. All it needs is that first push. Hopefully (are you ready for the big bullshit sign-off?) liberty's warming rays will melt the snow of tyranny before the bastards even have a chance to pull their mittens on.

Mr. Speilberg, Mr. Lucas, THIS would be a good use of aliens

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Who needs Johnnie Cochran when you have Kim Kardashian?

Here’s how the headline would read if I were going to write a news story about this: Local man distracted by stupid, bullshit story while reading Google News.

The lede: SALT LAKE CITY — A 22 year-old man’s interest in the relevant news of the day was viciously slain by a headline in the Entertainment section of his Google News page. Eyewitnesses said David Baker was scouring the site for more analysis of the recently passed stimulus package when he ran into this headline: “Kim Kardashian Defends Jessica.”

“Who can blame him?” a random, completely fabricated female source said this morning. “A headline like that one just screams at you, ‘Stupid enough to be interesting.’”

…

Sadly, that’s what happens all too often. And not just to me. But, in my defense, I did read it with the expressed purpose of simply making fun of it. As you read on, ponder this question: Is that still a justifiable reason for reading?

For me, that headline was just too ridiculous to ignore. After more research (aka, clicking on some of the other headlines) I also found out that people think Jessica Simpson is looking fat these days. As a society, that’s what Simpsonian problem we’re focusing on? The fact that she barely has the brainpower to operate her bodily functions and is living under the impression that Puerto Rico is the man who sang “Rico Suave” isn’t the issue?

I’m pretty surprised that I’m surprised about this, actually. A focus on physical attractiveness instead of mental prowess has only been around since the camera obscura and is as interwoven into our national Christmas sweater as freedom, liberty and an unconditional love of talking dog movies.

I’m straying. The real shock here was how Kim Kardashian could defend anyone. The ghost of Robert Kardashian, maybe. But not his daughter—who’s now more famous for fucking a minor R&B star and a former Heisman Trophy winner (two different people) than the kindness she showed in befriending a maniac suffering with a sweeping madness brought on by the advanced stages of syphallis.

I know we’re only talking about defense in the court of public opinion, but it’s just as ridiculous in that context. Kardashian has an ass that could house a new Smithsonian containing a fairly extensive collection of artifacts chronicling the degeneration of human dignity in the last 10 years. The meaning of life, the key to stimulating our economy, ODB’s remains and Rick Moranis’ career are all somewhere in that vast expanse.

Kim’s not really fat, though. Curvy, but not technically fat. And maybe that’s why she comes to the rescue of Jessica Simpson, because she’s defending curvy women everywhere (A note: The simple act of Kardashian having to defend Simpson is a little absurd, but it gets even more absurd in the light of a few “facts.” Apparently, Jessica is a country singer now. Country fans, who are used to dipping Skoal, drinking regular Budweiser and taking home something a little smaller than the bull they paid $150 to ride at a county fair—so they could feel like a real cowboy—don’t care much about curves. Just a pretty face and one song about fucking a man just because he owns a Ford pickup is the ticket to stardom.) Or the two are both in the not-so-exclusive, I’ve Fucked an NFL Player Club that meets bi-monthly at titty bars all across this great country and Kardashian’s just helping out her fellow member.

Another headline suggests something more biological is to blame: Kim Kardashian Finds Jessica Simpson Hot.

With that headline, I don’t think my sex-drunk (more accurately, drunk with the thought of sex, not the actual act. I don’t want to give the impression I’m something that I’m not—attractive), 22-year-old mind can be blamed for drifting away from one stimulus in hopes of a more physically rewarding one. But that may just be an excuse. As a long-time apologist for the under-sexed and over-masturbated among us, I would argue it’s a good excuse, too. We’re men and men will risk major bodily harm to even get a chance to see two girls kiss.

But libidinous reasons ARE more forgivable. We can’t help but retain some of our animalistic qualities. I won’t rebuke anyone for letting his penis (or her vagina, I suppose, but it would be much harder to accomplish, I think) do the clicking.

I do find something morally reprehensible about reading celebrity gossip for the sake of reading celebrity gossip. A general interest in that sort of bullshit seems very foreign to me, and that may explain my adverse reaction, but I think my little digital detour this morning says something more about our nation as a whole—and if it doesn't I'm probably just going to keep trying until I trick myself into think their is some strained connection.

We are easily distracted. And that’s partially our fault. The circular argument would go something like this:

“But there’s a lot of this celebrity stuff out there to get distracted by.”

“Well, there wouldn’t be so much if there wasn’t a market for it.”

It’s the “Which came first, Kim Kardashian or her ass” question, and it’s a trap someone raging about this notion can easily fall into, which is exactly what I did. I tend to place all blame on the consumer, though. If we decide things are a viable profit factory, then the cogs will turn, churning out whatever it may be—Jerry Bruckheimer movies, Beanie Babies, or celebrity gossip. And if you didn’t know this before (god help your naïve soul, I hope you didn’t put all your eggs in that Publisher’s Clearing House basket), news, like every business, is about one thing—money.

As the consumers, we are the ones who decide what’s important. So—and this is the big, bullshit call to action you’ve been waiting for—don’t read that shit. Unless it’s for the purpose of satirizing it later. I don’t want to sound like I’m advocating a politics-and-news-inspired boredom, though. I’m not. It’s not long before I too have to jump out of the political above-ground pool because my fingers and toes prune at a rather rapid pace, ruining the experience.

Broaden your scope, I’m all for it. Pop culture is OK, because it has some relevancy in the grand scheme of things. Sports are OK, even. Those things have some value—others would disagree, but those people are even a little further up their own asses than I am. The only important thing that I’m trying to get across in all this rambling is that we, as a society, need to start figuring out what is important, what’s for fun and what’s simply fodder for parody—and that all three things are valid reasons for consuming the media they’re associate with.

So there’s my answer to the question I asked earlier (the one you’ve no doubt forgotten) about reading simply to make fun of. It’s also very hard to read any news when they have the picture below (courtesy of Google News, and originally a PETA ad on PETA.org) on your page.

Who says the Internet is a God-less wasteland?

We now live in a world where the Pope has his own YouTube channel. I’m assuming we’re calling this PopeTube, because — as a people — we’re super fucking creative.

According to a couple of wire stories, the channel will only feature brief videos of the Pope’s daily activities. Doesn’t he just pray all the time, and occasionally mumble dogma from his balcony? Now that’s compelling video. Just some old man talking to God all day. We’d much rather watch that than a video of a panda sneezing, or a monkey pissing in it’s own mouth.

Why watch fat people break dance, when you can watch Pope Benedict do … whatever he does—light some candles, read the Bible, say Hail Marys, do Pope things? The only high-octane viral video would be him cruising the Pope Mobile around. Now that’s heart-stopping entertainment.

Despite the certain handicaps that come with providing daily videos of the Pope — no sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll or the like — PopeTube should be wildly popular. He has a built-in following that have done way, way crazier things than watch boring videos in the name of the Pope. They killed people. Lots of them. And didn’t have sex until marriage.

There’s enough Catholic religious guilt to make the Pope’s videos even more popular than Lightsaber Fight Kid could ever imagine. “Oh, you don’t like Pope Prayer43, huh? You didn’t embed it on your MySpace, or email it to the requisite 12 friends — like the amount of disciples, idiot — so you get to spend an eternity listening to Kajagoogoo in purgatory. That’ll teach you to not digg the Pope.” But, as a conduit to God, I’m not sure the Pope really needs the fake-importance that comes standard on any model of ‘Netelebrity.

I think the real question that needs to be asked is: What does it mean for the future of online communication when the Pope has a YouTube channel?

Some would say it’s a sign of the old establishment finally accepting the realities of this 21st Century digital world. Those people are fucking stupid. I’ll tell you what this means — complete and utter disaster.

Anytime parents take a liking to something their kids had previously staked claim to as their own, the kids have no choice but to emphatically renounce their once-beloved thing and mark it as OMG SOOOOO LAME!!!! Applying that universal truth to this situation, there has to be the same sort of youthful rebellion, but this time, on a much grander scale.

If youth thought it was bad when their parents and other adults started getting on MySpace and Facebook — which is something we’ll get to momentarily (or longer, depending on your ability to read) — just think of the backlash caused by a super old, super lame man with an antiquated wardrobe, having his own YouTube channel.

It’s going to get worse, though. An archbishop in charge of Vatican communications said he couldn’t rule out the possibility that they would someday have a Facebook page, too.

What the fuck are Papal status updates going to look like?

- Pope Benedict is chillin’ like a villain with the G man.

- Pope Benedict is probably going to pray before he hits the sack.

- Pope Benedict (mobile) is OMG the Jonas Brothers ROCK!!!

He’s bound to add some applications. Could you send the Pope a drink? Compare your likes? Rank the Pope as the best body of anyone in your network? Will Catholics even have to venture out to do missionary work anymore, or does suggesting the Pope as a friend serve as a suitable replacement for more traditional forms of proselytizing?

I guess the real question is, will there be a Hail Mary application for those who have already confessed their sins on their blogs?

A fuzzy Russian hat: Change we can believe in

The speech was good. The crowd was big. And, as a country, we’re officially like a porn star — sans Bush.

You’ve heard all the analysis. Was the speech allusive enough? The tone business instead of pleasure? How cute was Michelle’s dress? Why do we give a fuck about said dress? That’s why I’m not going to repeat it here.

Instead, I want to delve into some of the questions that will probably remain unanswered unless they are brought up here. So on we go, lest we let one minutia of political occurrence go unfucked-with.

Note: These questions and attempted answers are ranked in order of my perceived importance.

1. What the fuck was HW doing wearing that goddamned hat?

There are a couple possible explanations why No. 41 would have chosen to wear a small rodent on his head. He could have been making a statement about communism or just shouting out to some Russian czar he knew during his college years. Possibly, Bush1 just finished the fucking Iditarod.

Was he just a senile old man making a terrible fashion decision? We’re probably lucky he didn’t come in one of Barbara’s dresses, too. Or was it a conscious decision and expression of fatherly love? Because wearing that hat almost took my attention off how shitty his son was as a president. Only for a second, though.

2. Why was Cheney in a wheelchair?

They say it was from moving boxes. I don’t buy it. That’s just the news media speculating. Was his inability to walk a product of his being too tired — and his legs and back too sore — from fucking the country for the last eight years? It could be a visual metaphor for how he and Bush left the country crippled. Maybe he got shot, which would be poetic justice. Either way, I’m sure we’ll never know the truth because, like everything else, the bastard classified the information.

3. Who’s happier: Bush, or the world?

Bush is happier. The world is, no doubt, incredibly relieved, but way too far down in the quickshit to conjure up any feelings resembling happiness.

4. Can you rhyme with Rev. Lowery?

In probably the best moment of the whole ceremony, the old Civil Rights leader showed why black people are cooler than white people. Just think, if Pat Robertson tried to pull off that shit, Jesus would have had to come back just to stop the atrocity.


5. Can Roberts still be considered a strict constructionist after his reading of the oath today?

No. He can still be considered a dumbass, though.

6. Did anyone get the poem?

Not unless you graduated in English Lit, but chances are, you were too busy adding foam to America’s cappaccinos to do a line-by-line analysis.

7. How shitty does Al Gore look?

Here’s an inconvenient truth, Albert: looking at you is like having Bush the Broccoli Hater rip your pubic hair out — one by one — to make his crazy commie headwear.

Being the president ages a man. And seeing the shape Gore’s in after NOT being the president for the last eight years, we might have dodged a real bullet — thanks Katherine Harris.

8. Why didn’t they replace the cello shit with a rap video?

They could have had Obama pouring out some champagne on Sarah Palin, who is chained to a stripper pole. Maybe get Rev. Wright involved, Bill Aires, too.

9. Did Aretha wear enough bow for the rest of the country?

She filled the world’s bow-wearing quota for the next four years.

10. When did Bob Bennett become so important?

They must not have been able to find a more fiendish-looking Mr. Burns clone to hover ominously during the inauguration. Bob Bennett isn’t even important in the Utah delegation, let alone the US Government as a whole. Maybe they just needed someone there that looked worse than Cheney and Gore.

An SAT question: Sports is to Politics as Oil is to BLANK.

I’m constantly baffled by the complete and utter stupidity of the people around me. But what’s incredibly frustrating — and not particularly baffling, at all — is our ability to pick leaders and elected officials who are even fucking stupider than we are.

Case in point: The Bowl Championship Series debacle.

Q: Why in the unholy fuck do we need politicians to get involved in this shit? Don’t we have anything better to do?

A: Refer to the opening paragraph.

President-elect Barack Obama is now President Obama (ending the hyphen’s 15 minutes of punctuation fame) and he has at least 700 billion things more important to worry about than the way college football hands out its national championship trophy.

Taking a shit in a bag, lighting that bag on fire and placing the flaming bag of human shit on Rush Limbaugh’s porch should be a higher priority than the BCS.

For once, I actually have faith Obama may be able to figure that out — and there’s recent evidence to prove that the BCS/playoff debate isn’t high on his list. Kudos to him for being an anomaly in the political story problem: What do you get when you have 100 million idiots pick someone to rule them (hint: Use the formula, stupid^9)?

In the grand scheme of things, college football don’t mean shit. And that’s coming from someone who loves the game — a person so incapacitated by college and professional football that he rarely leaves the couch to eat during fall weekends.

Although I love football, I’d also still like to have a place to live and something in my fridge to eat — since I occasionally muster the energy to remove myself from my couch during halftime or one of the 65 booth reviews during the game. It just seems like something a little more crucial to the survival of society — not even “society as we know it,” just the fucking survival of the American Experiment — should take precedence over spread offenses and nickel defenses.

Here in Utah, our attorney general, Mark Shurtleff, apparently has nothing better to do than follow up a fucking great victory by the University of Utah Utes with the potential of bullshit anti-trust litigation against the BCS.

Fuck budget crunches, we have to avenge the Utes. No amount of money will be too much to bring home what is rightfully ours. Shurtleff should be placed in stocks in a public square so people can throw old dog shit at him — and I want to see bruises.

And, as much as I’d like to see the Utes be the National Champions — or at least have the chance to play for it — we need to face some facts, namely, Florida is a better team. They just are. In a head-to-head matchup, Florida wins. Maybe not by 20, but probably by 19.

All that aside, what the fuck does Shurtleff think he’s going to accomplish, besides wasting a shitload of taxpayer time and money? Tear the BCS down? Singlehandedly create a playoff system? It still doesn’t change the fact that the big, stupid, crystal football was handed to the Gators.

I understand we live in an entirely too litigious society. Maybe by throwing around words like ‘anti-trust,’ they are trying to make this whole thing seem legitimate. But I don’t buy it. It smells akin to the other festering, fecal lawsuits that regularly filed against fast food restaurants by the morbidly obese. I’d usually say it’s bullshit, but I think hogshit works better, in this case.

We shouldn’t be surprised, though. Sports has leaked into the political arena in the not-so-distant past. Remember the steroids hearings? I sure as hell do.

Congress wasted its time, and ours, trying to ascertain if human bobble head dolls like Mark McGwire, Rodger Clemens, Barry Bonds — although he wasn’t present, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t on trial — and other purveyors of our national pastime took steroids. My profane refrain from those hearings still reverberates — at lest in my head — Goddamnit, who the fuck cares? So what if these bastards took steroids? In hindsight, wouldn’t an investigation of predatory lending practices have been a much more meaningful use of congressional time and energy?

Those questions are the same ones I asked earlier — the only difference being a larger ball and not as much talk of asses getting stuck with hypodermic needles.

Could all of this be a little funny? Sure, if it wasn’t so fucking stupid. And serious. This situation is rife with potential parodies. I’m just a little too pissed to write one, at the moment — I’m sure one will come to me.

Don’t get me wrong, though, sports are awesome, and I’m a fanatic. Without it, I’d probably have to get into American Idol or develop some sort of game-show watching habit. But we’re just talking about sports. Sometimes, we have bigger things to worry about.