Get Incensed

It still drives me crazy to think that the guy who could have been the Fred Astaire of our generation turned out to be such a freak.

…
And then there’s the guy who was the Fred Astaire of his generation…

The person George Balanchine and Rudolf Nureyev rated as the greatest dancer of the twentieth century and the man, about whom a talent agent for RKO Pictures supposedly once wrote in a memo: “Can’t sing. Can’t act. Balding. Can dance a little.” …

dance, Fred Astaire, Michael Jackson, what could have been

Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs

Why is it that dictators always go crazy at some point in their lives?

You’d think that repressing their own people, looting their countries’ economic wealth and performing the occasional hit on some dissident would be a full-time job and enough to keep them occupied.

Just when you think Vladimir Putin might have his hands full trying to turn Russia back into a communist state and economic disaster zone, he decides to announce he’s annexing the North Pole and any oil and mineral rights that might be part of the territory.


Just plain bat-shit crazy

Putin is basing his claim to a region of the Arctic (that is over five times the area of the state of Utah) on the findings of a Russian geological expedition that an underwater Russian ridge is linked to the North Pole.

Right, like anyone on that expedition was going to step up and say Russia wasn’t connected. Even though I hear Siberia is actually kind of nice this time of year.

By this line of reasoning, the U.S. is immediately entitled to take over Canada as the 51st State since the Rocky Mountains continue on up into British Columbia.

It’s not like there’s not enough squabbling over territory in the world without Russia, the largest country on the planet, trying to assert a claim to about 500,000 square miles of previously mapped out territory.

The area currently falls under United Nations jurisdiction and administration … which means it’s only a matter of time before we’re bringing vodka down by truck through Canada.

Russia, Putin, Cocoa Puffs, Arctic, North Pole, oil, gas, diamonds, and bears, oh my,

On the off chance that the expedition hadn’t found a link, let’s just say there might be a few more workers for the Russian prison system.

Murderer.

It hasn’t even been a week yet and I’ve already reached my limit on the “tributes” being paid to professional WWE clown Chris Benoit.

I’ve read about people saying he was an “excellent mat technician” - which is a lot like saying Helen Mirren was one of the greatest queens of the British Empire. I hate to break it to you, Jethro, but it’s called “acting.”

I’ve also heard that he was “one of the good guys” in professional wrestling and all through the thread of comments on various websites you keep hearing how “we’ll never really know what happened.”

With no due respect, we already do know what happened. Chris Benoit bound and strangled his wife and then, nearly a day later, asphyxiated his seven-year-old son.

There is no excuse for this.

You can’t blame steroids, you can’t blame Vince McMahon, you can’t blame too much violence on TV or Republicans or his parents or global warming or the guy who kept kicking his seat during the movies.

Chris Benoit brutally murdered two members of his family. Period. End of story. That is now what defines the man. It pretty much trumps everything else you’ve done in life.

Maybe he saved puppies and was kind to orphans his whole life. He probably did some thoughtful, caring things in his lifetime. He may even have brought hours and hours of light-hearted entertainment into the lives of professional wrestling fans everywhere.

None of that counts for anything when stacked up against the horrific actions of this past weekend.

Placing a Bible by the body of each of your victims doesn’t make you a loving husband, a caring father or a great ambassador for your sport. It doesn’t buy you absolution for the cold-blooded killing of your family, either.

Let’s remember Chris Benoit, ultimately, for who he was: a murderer.

WWE, Vince McMahon, Chris Benoit, professional wrestling,

451 Blogger Scooter has details and comments on his site, WWE Daily. You should probably check him out for a more mainstream view and a better historical perspective on wrestling than you’ll get here.

Shaken, barely stirred

The release of almost 700 pages of CIA documents referred to as “the family jewels” have added some minor details to the historical record about the Agency’s abuses of power in the 1970s.

More revealing is the attitude taken by the CIA. According to an AP report “CIA spokesman George Little said [CIA Director] Hayden has been declassifying historic documents as a way of demonstrating CIA’s accountability.”

Way to step up to the plate, guys.

Nearly 40 years later, you release some ancillary papers that shed some marginal new information that it took years of Congressional panels and Freedom of Information Act requests to wrench out of the Agency in the first place.

You’ll forgive me if, when I think about ways of “demonstrating accountability,” this is not the first example that comes to my mind.

With this kind of accountability, the nominations for the next CIA director should come down to Pete Rose and Barry Bonds.

According to most polls, public confidence in government is at scraping along at an all-time low. This new information and the self-congratulatory claptrap accompanying it should help make sure public faith in government stays at subterranean levels for awhile.

Wake up, folks. Checks and balances aren’t any good if you don’t use them.

CIA, family jewels, Pete Rose, Barry Bonds, government accountability,

In an age of commercialization, where bands are worried about saying something to upset their fans or their tour sponsors, Flight of the Conchords stands out as a band that’s not afraid to tackle the issues of the day.

Do you seriously doubt that funk can change the world, my friend?

current events, Flight of the Conchords, issues, AIDS, violence, Russian dolls, children

“Hey, hey we’re the monkeys …”

It used to be that there was a whole lot of education that went into becoming a scientist.

To be a scientist you actually had to study stuff. And not just easy stuff like “Who is the President of the United States?” (Hint: She was in Earth Girls Are Easy and A League of Their Own).

As a scientist, you were expected to know chemical formulas such as H-2-0 (water) or 2-Pac (rapper).

People considered scientists to be experts and consulted them on important matters like what kind of hangover you’d get if you mixed lemonade and Jagermeister or how to set up a crystal meth lab.

But alas, Frodo, that was in the olden times …

These days anyone can weigh in as a scientific expert, especially in places like Kansas where “intelligent design” is now a mandatory part of the science curriculum.

The last time the educational bar was set this low was when the Scarecrow got a degree from the Wizard of Oz.

Supporters of intelligent design argue that the universe is so complex that it had to be designed by a superior being (like Rush Limbaugh or Barbra Streisand) or super-intelligent aliens (like Henry Kissinger or Salma Hayek).

Intelligent design enthusiasts want their views to be presented as an alternative to the science of evolution. The idea here is that one theory is just as good as another, regardless of any supporting evidence - which is kind of like Ashlee Simpson being advanced as an alternative to Melissa Etheridge.

Hey, I get it. The universe is amazingly intricate. So is the plot line in Lost - that doesn’t mean it was designed by aliens … although Tom Cruise might give you and argument on that.

Comparing the two sides of this debate seems to favor evolutionary theory …

First off, Charles Darwin had a beard; a good thing when you want to be taken seriously as a scientist.

And Darwin’s beard wasn’t some scruffy beard like your grandmother has. Darwin’s bushy beard spoke to his stature as a scientist. It was as if he were saying, “If I wasn’t an expert in my field, I couldn’t walk around looking like the lead singer of ZZ Top, could I?”

Everybody’s crazy ’bout a sharp-dressed man

In contrast, the evangelical preachers who promote intelligent design usually sport shiny suits and ties with huge knots.

If the knot in your tie is the roughly the size of a St. Bernard’s head, it is very difficult to be taken seriously on any topic, let alone the origins of the universe.

Secondly, Darwin’s book has a weighty title: On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favored Races in the Struggle for Life.

The textbook used for teaching intelligent design is Of Pandas and People. Let’s face it, you can’t possibly hope to be taken seriously if your science book has a title with that kind of alliteration.

However, the main problem with the view that the universe was created by a superior being is: who created the superior being that created the universe? And who created the superior being who created that superior being?

This is what’s known in scientific circles as an infinite regret. As in, “I regret ever trying to have an intelligent discussion with a religious zealot.”

Still, the creationists might be right …

The world is a magnificent and complex place. We marvel at the color and symmetry of a leaf in autumn. We feel humble when we gaze up at a star-filled night sky. We stare in awe as a sunrise unfolds in wisps of clouds and a symphony of pastels.

There is only one conclusion to be drawn from the beauty and intricacy of the universe: God is gay.

Since the universe is so well-designed, it’s unlikely that only one gay god was involved. Think about it. There were five consultants on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

Intelligent designers

It’s time we started teaching children that creating the universe was too important a task to be assigned to just one god. You pretty much need a grooming guru and a culture vulture at a bare minimum.

So, come on, Kansas. Get with the program. One theory’s just as good as another, isn’t it?

intelligent design, Darwin, evolution, creationist, evangelical Christians, scientists, Geena Davis, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy

Trying to figure out how to demonstrate your commitment to individual rights can be downright frustrating.

Take, for example, the Gay Pride Parade in New York City this weekend.

Sure, as a thinking heterosexual you’d like to support your gay friends, but if you wear a rainbow T-shirt, it can send out the wrong signal.

Ooooh, awkward.

If you just wear a regular T-shirt, like one of those “I’m With Stupid” shirts, you risk coming off as uncool, or worse … a tourist.

So, how can you show support to all your friends who get you the really great theater tickets and still be hip enough to meet them after the parade for a drink?

Until now, it was virtually impossible.

But thanks to the folks at Threadless.com, this year you can flaunt (it is a gay parade, after all) your opposite-sex-loving fabulousness and show your solidarity for everyone’s right to their own sexual preference.

At the same time, you can assert your right to attend the kick-ass dance party of your choice after the parade with the coolest T-shirt we’ve seen in quite some time:

This shirt may be so intelligent only gay people get it.

If you feel like this Gay Pride shirt is too subtle, you can always go with one of the following shirts from LMNO Tees or Cafe Press.

Choose any shirt you like … because freedom of choice is pretty much what this weekend’s all about.

gay, lesbian, LGBT, T-shirts, freedom of choice, heterosexual, theater tickets,

Ed. note: Check out fellow 451 Press bloggers Lyndsey D’Arcangelo and Adrien-Luc Sanders at their respective websites, Lez Keep It Real and Pride and Opinions.

Credit problems?

Does it always seem you have more month left over at the end of your paycheck?

Sometimes it’s just so hard to figure out what to do. This video can help…

credit card debt, finances, Saturday Night Live, SNL, Steve Martin, Amy Poehler

“If Homosexuality is a disease, can I call in Queer?”

From an earlier post:

Hallmark recently announced that they are expanding their greeting card line. Not content to churn out trite sentiments and pithy rhymes for birthdays, deaths, weddings, bar mitzvahs, friendship, love, thinking of you, congratulations, good luck, sorry your dog died, and all the major secular and religious holidays, Hallmark did what most $4 billion dollar a year companies do: they went looking for new markets.

(… continued)
I think Hallmark may be on to something. Their new Journeys line of cards looks to address such diverse and sensitive issues such as cancer, rehab, infertility, depression and coming out.

You know, situations that just call out for a canned show of support penned by a complete stranger.

Hallmark cards for people with cancer have rhymes like: Cancer is a villain who doesn’t play fair … but it can’t dim your spirit, and it can’t silence prayer and a more jaunty: One year free of the Big Bad C.

These cards may be more effective than they appear at first glance. I know if I was a smoker, the threat of getting one of these cards would be enough to make me quit cigarettes for good.

Hallmark recently advertised for freelance journalists to contribute to their new line of cards.

Here are a few submissions I hope I can make some money on:

Unexpected pregnancy:
(Boyfriend)
We had a moment in time,
I was one of your “scores,”
No need to worry,
The baby’s not yours.

Infertility:
(Husband)
To my darling husband,
You’ve paid for hormones and treatments,
And for that, I say “thanks,”
But I screwed the FedEx guy,
‘Cause you’re shooting blanks

Depression:
Things may look bad now,
But, the future … no one can see,
You’ll find your next soul mate,
Maybe she’ll be drug and disease free.

Thinking of suicide:
Cover copy: So, you’ve decided to end it all …
Inside copy: Maybe you’re right.

Coming out:
I know this decision can be difficult,
You just want the yelling to stop,
I’m here to support you,
By the way … I’m a “top.”

Molested by your teacher:
I know you’re going through a lot right now
And it seems like your world has been turned upside down.
Know that it’s not your fault.
She took advantage of you.
I respect you for sharing your secret with me,
You have an inner strength like no one else I know,
And I’m glad that you’re my friend.
It may not seem like it now,
But you will be able to move on from here …
Hey, do you think she’d be up for a three-way?

I can hardly wait for the musical e-cards ….

Hallmark, Journeys, cancer, infertility, rehab, suicide, coming out, molested by teacher,

Sure, it rhymes … but is it really what you wanted to say?

Good news for all you freelance writers out there . . . Hallmark recently announced that they are expanding their greeting card line.

Not content to churn out trite sentiments and pithy rhymes for birthdays, deaths, weddings, bar mitzvahs, friendship, love, thinking of you, congratulations, good luck, sorry your dog died, and all the major secular and religious holidays, Hallmark did what most $4 billion dollar a year companies do: they went looking for new markets.

Now, a big company like Hallmark can bring a lot of resources to bear on any problem that it faces. So, they decided to send out 4,328 employees to hang around shopping malls in dark glasses, hats and long trench coats. These employees were tasked with gathering information about what people felt they were missing in a greeting card.

The result was fairly predictable: 2700 employees were arrested and 14 malls were closed down when shoppers called their local SWAT team.

Of course, I’m joking. Hallmark is a sophisticated company that can pay someone else to do their research for them. Or, as they say in the marketing industry, “poll some focus groups.”

As it turns out, a focus group is a lot like improv comedy. Members of the focus group are asked to give spontaneous responses to questions they’ve never heard before. And, like improv, the results are unpredictable and often hilarious . . .

Hallmark announced that the “majority of online and focus group respondents said they couldn’t find what they were looking for when needing an encouragement card.”

In other words, when people didn’t want to take the time to compose a heartfelt e-mail to a life-long friend recently diagnosed with leukemia, they were pissed that they couldn’t assuage their guilt by making a five minute stop in the mall and plunking down $3.95 (plus tax).

By way of full disclosure, I will confess that I am not normally a card person. I don’t feel like I need a card to let someone know how much I care about them. That’s what gift certificates to McDonalds are for.

(to be continued…)

Hallmark cards, cancer, freelance writing, McDonalds, birthdays, deaths, weddings, bar mitzvahs, friendship, love, thinking of you, congratulations, good luck, sorry your dog died,

Little Kids Face vs Large Exercise Ball - Watch more free videos

451 friend Catslyn over at SCA Life has recruited me into a game of meme tag. This particular game is the “Write Seven Unusual Facts About Yourself” version.

It’s kind of like Internet dodge ball except that you’re required to throw and hit yourself in the face with the ball.

…Then recruit seven other unsuspecting, soon-to-be-former friends to join in the merriment and frivolity.

Seriously, it’s all in good fun.

So, my List of Seven Facts, to be placed at the Tomb of the Unknown Last Kid Picked:

1. The longest I’ve ever lived in one house or apartment was the four years I lived and worked in Tokyo, Japan. At six feet, five inches tall, whenever I traveled outside of Tokyo I would be approached by little kids who wanted to get their picture taken next to a real, live giant. So, I’m probably in about 300 photo albums of people I don’t know.

2. I have an 8-year old son who is one quarter Scottish, one quarter Polish (my side) and half Puerto Rican (his mom’s side) - which means he’s tight with a dollar and will slash your tires unless it’s a really good Polish joke.

3. In high school I got the highest score in the state on the advanced placement Latin exam. This would continue to be a theme throughout my life where I did really well in things that interested me but had absolutely no practical value.

4. I spent most of my childhood in my own self-constructed world. In third grade I went to school and told the class that I had a pet monkey that I kept in the park by our apartment complex … in downtown Cleveland, Ohio. I went home that afternoon, got a stuffed monkey from my bedroom and climbed a tree in the park and put the monkey up in the tree. Just in case anyone decided to check.

5. I once lived in my car for nearly three months in New York City.

6. My very good friend Scott, was scheduled to attend a conference at the World Trade Center on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. He decided on Sunday he was too busy and, as was his usual procedure, would give the invitation to a junior partner at his firm. He forgot to hand out the invitation at work that Monday, so everyone on staff remained safely at the office in New Jersey that morning.
I commuted to work in Connecticut through Grand Central Station during that time and one of the memorials that was spontaneously put up in the station was a poster of hand prints from a group of school kids sympathizing with the victims and thanking the cops and fireman who worked the scene. I still can’t pass a poster of school kid hand prints without getting choked up.

7. When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up and play basketball for a living. I never quite made it to the professional level but I managed to achieved an NBA lifestyle - I travel a lot, work at night and have a kid in a different city. I’m living proof the whatever does not kill you, will just piss you off.

Lyndsey at Lez Keep it Real
Victoria at San Diego, CA
Meleah at Watching Sitcoms
Gold’n-Delicious at Diddy
Will McKinley at Previously Owned
Letia at Her Daily News
Chris at Lighter Footstep

Ya think?

Damn, I got something in my eye . . . .

Britain’s Got Talent, Simon Cowell, Paul Potts, Turandot, Puccini,

Congress to push for Medicaid coverage of STDs

Okay, it’s Friday and I’ve given up all hope of trying to figure out this latest trend toward old and/or unsexy people getting naked.

First, there was the granny calendar, then there was World Naked Bike Ride Day and, finally, we have Triumph the Insult Comic Dog’s ending segment at the Tony Awards.

The good news: Triumph does some great reporting and most of the Broadway folks are incredibly good-natured about the ribbing they’re taking.

The bad news: The final bit is liable to haunt you for a very, very, very long time.

If I wanted to be emotionally scarred for life, I’d put a web cam in my parent’s bedroom. Where is the damn FCC when you need them? Clearly, this is just another failure to address a crisis by Bush’s appointee to the FCC, Kevin Martin.

Can we please have another Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction?

Come on, Janet, your country needs you…

“Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you, woo, woo, woo …”

granny calendar, Medicaid, Medicare, Kevin Martin, Janet Jackson, wardrobe malfunction, Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, Conan O’Brien

Please don’t ask me where or how I managed to get a picture of Joel Osteen’s driving test.

Somebody will Get Incensed about this.

It won’t be me. I’m laughing too hard…

god is my co-pilot, WWJD, Jesus Saves, Joel Osteen

From the mind of Stephen King … Granny Calendar!

Fortunately, I wasn’t eating lunch when I came across the following story:

Giving sultry looks and sexy smiles to the camera, 12 Pittsburgh-area women recently posed at Monongahela historical sites, baring it all — or almost all — to create a charity-driven calendar. The catch? The nearly nude ladies are all in their 70s and 80s, driven to adventure by a desire to raise money for a historical society in Monongahela, a small community 17 miles southeast of Pittsburgh.

Who wrote this article? Matlock?

What’s with this talk of “sultry looks?” These women were probably just squinting through their cataracts in an effort to see who was talking to them during the photo shoot.

I understand that there’s a fetish in this world for everyone, but there’s no way you’re going to convince me that there’s anything about an exposed 80-year-old that’s “sexy.”

The only way you could possibly come across more wrinkled skin would be if somehow a sharpei got trapped in your hot tub.

Apparently the Monongahela Golden Girls were trying to raise money for charity by posing at historical sites. Let’s forget for a moment that these women probably are historical sites, the only way this would make sense was if they were posing in front of the statue of the guy who invented the blindfold or on the site of the original Depends factory.

All the money raised will go to the Monongahela Historical Society which, if this is any indication of their fund raising efforts, will be in Chapter 11 by the end of the week.

The article points out that “the calendar was the brainchild of 80-year-old Lorys Crisafulli. She came up with the idea (Ed. note: and then forgot about it for seven months) when she saw the movie Calendar Girls, a 2003 flick starring Helen Mirren.

At the time she made that movie, Helen Mirren was 58 years old and maybe even had access to a body double. Tack on an extra 20-30 years of gravity, working in the mines and prunes and that brings us to the point of Ms. Crisafulli’s current brainstorm.

I believe we can all learn something from other cultures. I think we should have sharia law for women over 70…..

sexy, calendar, pin-ups, Depends, Helen Mirren, Monongahela, Golden Girls, historical sites, cataracts,