A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

"...a worthless shred of human debris"

Rush never inhaled:

Firebrand radio talk show host Rush Limbaugh was charged Friday with fraudulently concealing information to obtain prescription drugs, but prosecutors will drop the charge after 18 months if Limbaugh remains in treatment for drug addiction, his lawyer said.

Limbaugh also agreed to pay the state of Florida $30,000 to help cover the cost of the investigation into the conservative radio personality's alleged "doctor shopping," a felony in Florida.
[...]
The single charge will stand until Limbaugh has finished 18 months of drug treatment. Then, under the agreement with the Palm Beach County state attorney, the charge will be dropped, [Limbaugh attorney Roy] Black said.

"As a primary condition of the dismissal, Mr. Limbaugh must continue to seek treatment from the doctor he has seen for the past two-and-one-half years," Black said. "This is the same doctor under whose care Mr. Limbaugh has remained free of his addiction without relapse."

During the investigation, authorities seized prescription records from several drugstores from which Limbaugh obtained 2,000 pills over six months, prosecutors said.

Last year, Black said Limbaugh was prescribed eight hydrocodone pills a day for seven months, "which is not excessive and is in fact a lawful dose."

Hydrocodone is a potent painkiller that can become addictive.

Mmmm...sweet, sweet hydrocodone.

Sorry, where were we? Here's some things Rush previously had to say about the scourge of drugs in society:

"And we have laws against selling drugs, pushing drugs, using drugs, importing drugs. And the laws are good because we know what happens to people in societies and neighborhoods which become consumed by them. And so if people are violating the law by doing drugs, they ought to be accused and they ought to be convicted and they ought to be sent up."

"Too many whites are getting away with drug use...Too many whites are getting away with drug sales...The answer is to go out and find the ones who are getting away with it, convict them and send them up the river, too."

Limbaugh had no problem with the ACLU, whom he'd previously vilified, coming to his defense either.

I haven't listened to Limbaugh since I moved to D.C. in 1995 and had nothing but an AM radio to entertain me on my two-day drive in the U-Haul. I was soon faced with a choice: drive off I-30 into a river near Fulton, AR, or turn the radio off. I opted for the latter, and am generally happy I did so.

With stories like these, I generally err on the side of hoping the person in question gets the help he needs. Not so much here. Limbaugh has waged a 20-year campaign of disinformation in this country with little or no check on his lies. His influence may be lessened, but his legacy is set, and would best be capped off by forced retirement from the airwaves, a brief stint in the "Wayland Flowers and Madame seat" on Hollywood Squares, and an anonymous, bitter death.

Which means we can look forward to a post-rehab book and attendant publicity tour in about a year.

Full Spectrum Reviews

They run the gamut this week:

United 93 - *****
R.V. - *

The weekend box office will tell the tale. The impression I (and The Wife, who actually talks to other human beings) get is that there's a sizeable contigent of folks who are not up for seeing this. More's the pity.

"Heavenly Father, grant us courage to play our best, grant us wisdom to learn from our failures as well as our success, and grant the opposing QB an ACL tear before halftime. Amen."

I can't decide if the website for Christian Throwback Jerseys is a joke or not. I mean, we live in a world where you can buy statuary of Jesus lateraling a football to a child (and that other kid tackling Jesus is totally going to hell), so nothing would surprise me at this point. The site also bills itself as a "a proud sponsor of Jesus Christ," which would seem to indicate Christ has their logo on his stock car, and we all know how much the son of god loves him some NASCAR.

In short, it isn't that I have a hard time believing someone would make "inspirational" sports togs, but rather that the same someone would be so ignorant of American trademark law. I'll let you be the judge:

That explains the jump shot against Utah.

He'll need the help if he's ever going to win a Super Bowl.

No Leviticus, strangely enough, and I bet Ministry fans would like a "Psalm 69" equivalent.

Folks, if you're really that gonzo about purchasing Biblical-themed sports apparel, you're already covered. There's actually a real guy, who plays right wing for the NY Islanders, who should be your primary stop for Scripture-friendly gear.

Of course, I was always partial to his Buffalo Sabres jersey:

via Metafilter

Even though you know how it ends...

See United 93. There's no jingoism or chest-thumping to drum up support for the War on Terrah. No beatification of the passengers or demonization of the hijackers. No (well, very little) righteous ass-kickery. It is, quite simply, a superbly effective dramatization of the events of 9-11.

It wouldn't surprise me at all if this was #1 at the box office this weekend. And for once, I would consider it merited. Is it "too soon" for a movie about 9-11? I honestly don't know. What I do know is that it will resonate with just about anyone over the age of ten, not as a call to arms or justification for American militarism, but as a painfully human story.

See United 93.

Help Ray find his shit

Hollywood Ray, of dammitray.com, was robbed a couple weeks ago. Here's his heartfelt plea:

Some of y'all I haven't spoken to in awhile so I sincerely apologize for this mass email. I just found out yesterday that the majority of my worldly possessions were stolen out of storage at 68th and Shartel. I am hoping y'all can be on the lookout for some of my stuff. If you've ever had a hankering to shop at a pawn shop or antique store, now's the time. I will be conducting the biggest Easter Egg hunt of my life this weekend. I am sending example pictures (not actual pictures) of some of the more unique items that may pop up around Oklahoma City. This is just a fraction of what is missing and if you see something around town that you think might belong to me, give me a holler and I'll go check it out. Feel free to pass this along to anyone you know in Oklahoma City and surrounding areas.

I can't find an actual link to the blog entry, but if you go here and scroll down to the April 14 entry, you can see pictures of some of the purloined merchandise, including an elephant foot stool that belonged to his grandfather, a couple of Colt pistols, an M-Audio Ozone keyboard, and many other items. If you're in the OKC area or thereabouts (or goofing around on eBay), please keep an eye open.

And for a glimpse of the man you'll be helping, click here ("Randy" is a pseudonym, honest).

Blog alert

Friend, fellow Houstonian, and infrequent APCB commenter FFF finally gazed into the abyss and decided to start her own blog. You can check it out here.

I'm not at liberty to tell you much about the author, except that The Wife was in her wedding, and I tried getting her soon-to-be husband loaded at the country club bar, but ended up requiring a ride home myself. What else...her son is almost as cute as She Who Shall Not Be Named, she's almost as bad as my spouse is with directions, and she's one of maybe ten people in the world I wouldn't want to play Trivial Pursuit against.

Also, this excerpt from one of her entries spoke to me (not the James Blunt part):

Part the First: This is the kind of boring one. I was talking to a friend this weekend about the excellent James Blunt CD that I have been listening to lately. On the CD, there is a track called Tears and Rain that mentions Dorian Gray, from the book by Oscar Wilde. I'd heard of The Picture of Dorian Gray, of course, but confessed I'd never read it.

I have read it, not that anyone should feel bad about my being a lowly history major and yet still finding time to check it out, heavens no. I bring this up because, as I'm forced to look at my graying and increasingly craggy visage in the mirror every morning, I've become convinced that in some as-yet undiscovered attic there's a portrait of me in which I'm completely bereft of laugh lines, crows' feet, or Donahue-like hair. I want to burn that picture, until I remember that guy's still making $5.50 an hour working the graveyard shift at 7-11.

And then I almost pity him.

"Look on the bright side, Dad. Did you know that the Chinese use the same word for 'crisis' as they do for 'opportunity?'"
"Yes...Crisa-tunity."

No crisis here, as it seems I won't be drafted by the Chinese army anytime soon:

China's military is to bar recruits who are heavy snorers and those who have "fashionable tattoos", the official Xinhua news agency says.

The report does not say how the army will test for chronic snoring, but it quoted a health official saying tattoos "tarnish the military's image".
[...]
A report in the Beijing Morning Post said that the snoring standards were being brought in for military school recruits because "the nasal sound of chronic snorers disturbs collective life."

Apparently no one over there has mastered The Wife's patented Elbow to the Thorax technique which, bruising of the ribs aside, has proven pretty effective.

Ninja, please

"When you're staring down forty ambidextrous succubi with flaming pikes in their hands, you wanna be pretty darn certain that the naginata that you pull out wasn't forged out of PBR cans by a guy named 'Jingo' in Moose Jaw, Alaska."

From the Ask a Ninja website, a Real Ninja™ answers your questions. Question #14, about what kind of gifts to buy a ninja, is pretty good. Especially on the subject of gift cards:

"It's a gift that says, 'I don’t know you very well.' Perfect for a ninja!"

Courtesy of Ang, whom I always assumed was too busy to sink to blogging. How wrong I was.

"Where did the air come from?"

There's a video clip floating around out there showing University of South Carolina student body president Ryan Holt losing it after discovering his office has been filled with balloons. The gag is pretty standard stuff, and you've probably seen similar things in real life (we once filled a guy's underwear drawer with hand lotion, for example). Holt's reaction is midly amusing from a "spot the pompous proto-Republican" standpoint, but that's not why I'm posting it.

What I kept wondering, being a Big 12 alum, is why the VP of the South Carolina student body is walking around wearing a Texas A&M t-shirt? Granted, it's probably not as bad as if he wore one saying "Clemson," but isn't sporting another school's gear still a bit of a a faux pas on campus these days?

Unless, of course, they're worn "ironically," as would usually be the case for Harvard, Miskatonic, or Transylvania Universities.

The song remains the same

Silent Hill wasn't screened for critics, although I discovered, quite by accident, that there was a screening last night immediately following the one scheduled for The Sentinel. I wasn't invited to that one either, but I still managed to weasel my way in (the review should be up tomorrow). Needless to say, I wasn't inclined to hit a 10 PM show when I had to be up at 6 AM this morning, which is doubtless what Sony was hoping for.

Regardless, it's hovering around a 20% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. So...nyah.

In case I hadn't posted these yet:

Phat Girlz - *1/2
Take the Lead - **1/2

Surprise, surprise...I might actually get to check out United 93 next week.

When's National Thumb Wrestling Day?

Hurry up! There are still a few minutes left to celebrate National High Five Day.

National High Five Day falls on the third Thursday of April each year, which falls this year on April 20, 2006. The holiday originated at the University of Virginia in 2002, and has since spread across the nation, and around the globe.

I'll have to take their word for that (though the linked "intense high five montage" is somewhat amusing), and it's fortuitous that this year NH5D falls on 4-20, because what's more gratifying after smoking a few bowls than hitting each other up high, then down low? Nothing, that's what.

While I'm on the subject, this "420" shit can officially go away now. I don't know when it started, honestly (I don't read High Times), but what might have been a mildly amusing stoner in-joke many years ago has now become recognizable to the squarest of the sqaures and as lame and commodified as any other formerly obscure cultural phenomenon.

In other words, all your 420 are belong to us.

"We are hardly nerds. Would a nerd wear such an irreverent sweatshirt?"

The Thing That Walks Like a Man and I haven't been able to hang out much lately, thanks to the omnipresence of Personal Matters, but he still finds the time to innundate my inbox with gems like this.

While it would seem to be of limited amusement value to anyone not familiar with the first Marvel "Secret Wars" limited series from the 1980s, there's plenty of nerdery on display to provide some needed schadenfreude for the comics layperson. The kid in the Wolverine costume and Dr. Doom getting a quick smoke in before returning to action alone are comedy gold, to say nothing of Kang providing tech support to his mom.

As for my own credentials...I'll just say that when "Thor" was arguing with "Mr. Fantastic" that the Hulk might as well have been fighting Fin Fang Foom when he was erroneously matched up against Doc Ock, I thought "Fin Fang Foom wasn't in 'Secret Wars'" to myself a full second and a half before Mr. Fantastic said it.

And the "Crisis" group at the end? Outstanding.

"The Church Police!"

Big surprise, the Catholic group Opus Dei is displeased with their portrayal in a certain hit novel:

The conservative religious group Opus Dei has asked for a disclaimer on the upcoming film based on the best-selling novel "The Da Vinci Code."

Opus Dei, portrayed as a murderous, power-hungry sect in the novel by Dan Brown, wrote in an April 6 letter to Sony Corp. that a disclaimer would show respect to Jesus and to the Catholic Church.

"Any such decision by Sony would be a gesture of respect toward the figure of Jesus, to the history of the Church and to the religious beliefs of viewers," Opus Dei wrote in the letter, which was posted on its Italian Web site.

Maybe it's just me, but I find it exceedingly hilarious/pathetic that the Church is more concerned about the portrayal - in a work of fiction - of a Catholic organization as a bunch of ruthless murderers than they are in addressing or correcting the very real evils perpetrated by members of its clergy for the last fifty years.

In reality, they should be thanking Dan Brown, because depicting Opus Dei members as badass albino ninjas is sure to have thousands of 13-year old boys clamoring for membership. Maybe that was the intent all along.

"Oh yeah, that guy is totally straight. I saw a whole thing about him on the VH1."

VH1 held its online competition for the World Series of Pop Culture a couple week's ago, and I participated. Why? Because I am desperate for any means by which I can pay off my student loans and/or get my hands on a copy of Tales of Suspense #39. I didn't mention this earlier because, well, who really cares?

And I didn't want even more competition than the other teeming millions slated to take it, frankly. I tend to score well on the occasional quizzes EW puts out there, but if you charted my lifetime pop culture knowledge index, the graph would drop off like the Marianas Trench around 1998 (with another brief dip between 1987 and 1989, when I didn't own a TV). I need every edge I can get.

As it turns out, this one was all over the place. Three Goonies-related questions, to my eternal wrath (I still got them right, I think), and a plot synopsis query from the 6th season of Seinfeld I might as well have rolled dice for.

They also had a "Numbers" section, with the following being typical: "Multiply the number of times Sting said he'd call you each day in 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic' by the number of people talking without speaking in Simon & Garfunkel's 'The Sounds of Silence' by the name of Pearl Jam's first album (1,000 x 10,000 x 10). Ten of those in five minutes. The math wasn't hard, but if you didn't know how much Hurley won in the lottery or how many millions Brewster had to spend, you were up the creek.

That said, I got an e-mail saying I scored "Doogie Howser, M.D.," which is apparently the highest level. As it's been ten days since the test however, I assume I didn't make the cut.

Disgruntled

No reviews this week. Neither The Wild nor Scary Movie 4 screened for the press in Houston. Actually, I take that back...SM4 screened for print media, but not "internet critics." I've snuck into these screenings before, and will again, but didn't feel like hassling with it this time.

As you're all probably aware, this is a growing trend for studios. Rather than attempt to replicate my disgust here, I'll simply point you to my latest column, running today on Film Threat:

Hollywood Hates You

Have a good weekend. Don't go see Scary Movie 4.

"He prefers the company of men."
"Who doesn't?"

For reasons I won't go into here, I find myself visiting our local high school on a daily basis. And since I realize adolescent males are among the most homophobic beings on the planet outside of closeted rednecks and fundamentalists, I've come to realize these kids need correction on a couple of matters.

1. First of all, the pants around the knees shit has got to stop. Understand something: I grew up in the '80s, which - next to the '70s - were the height of unfortunate fashion trends. Shoulder pads, parachute pants, and camouflage were the rule of the day. But, and here's the key, all of it was functional. You could still run from danger without having to hitch your trousers up every third step. Our clothes may have been ugly, but none of it would get you killed.

And that's not even my point. I'm led to believe that the reason this trend started in the first place was because pimply dorks whose most heinous transgression to date was setting mailbox fires wanted to emulate prison folk. Seems you guys were informed that baggy pants were all the rage in the joint, because they took your belt from you. Well, I have it on authority from two unrelated sources (both of whom have been in prison, natch) that this is not the case. Apparently the only guys wearing pants that sag to their calves in stir are the ones who...how do I put this delicately...don't mind deliveries to the rear. The "hard" cons you so want to emulate keep their dungarees cinched tight at the waist.

2. I'm not sure where you got the idea that "teabagging" was something normal straight men do to each other, but let me assure you this isn't the case. I'm speaking specifically to the young man I saw run up to a supposed friend and straddle his shoulder while rubbing his crotch against the other kid's neck (all while yelling "teabag!" of course). If this is a manifestation of your own latent sexual desires, knock yourself out, but don't be surprised when someone you play that trick on in the future responds with an elbow to the solar plexus.

"I'm the head Frog here."

I kicked shooed my first frog of the year off the porch last night, which means...that's right, I get to recycle one of my old posts again.

-----

Spring and summer are frog season in these parts, and while not exactly on the same decibel level as cicadas, the little bastards can be loud. When we moved into out first non-apartment housing several years ago, I began hunting around for solutions to the racket that sprang up outside our bedroom window every night.

The following conversation - between myself and a Houston Garden Center employee - actually took place and is, to the best of my memory, accurate:

PVH: What did you say these things are called again?
HGCE: Rio Grande chirping frogs. They're a Houston-specific variant.
PVH: Gotcha.
HGCE: What were you looking for, exactly?
PVH: I just want something to make them avoid the area right under my bedroom window, if you've got anything like that.
HGCE: Uh huh.
PVH: I don't want to kill them, necessarily, but something that..I don't know...drives them into the neighbor's yard would be fine.
HGCE: Have you tried rotenone?
PVH: No, what's that?
HGCE: Well, adding it to any standing water will essentially make the water unlivable, which will drive the frogs out.
PVH: I see.
HGCE: Did you ever see the movie Creature from the Black Lagoon?
PVH: [blinking] Uh yes, actually.
HGCE: Well, they used rotenone to capture the Creature.
PVH: ...
HGCE: And he was an amphibian.
PVH: I'll take it.

It worked, too. Who would've suspected that all the answers to modern man's pest control problems could be found in 1950's horror movies?

If only there was something to help me with my mantis infestation...

Question from a Battlestar Galactica noob

When do they run out of booze?

Bear in mind I'm only 3/4 of the way through the first season, but Tigh's estranged wife (along with everybody else, it seems) had a bottle of ambrosia for their reunion, and there never seems to be a lack of hooch at the card games. I appreciate the necessity of strong drink, especially when 99.8% of humanity has been eradicated, but it seems the imminent drought of liquor will be a bigger problem than restoring democracy or finding tylium.

On second thought, don't answer that. Starbuck just made the jump back to Caprica to find the Arrow and I'm deathly afraid of spoilers.

Jesus, that's one nerdy post.

When "two thumbs up" isn't enough

It was only a matter of time before something like The Weekly Blurb came out (via MetaFilter):

Have a movie? Want it to be a hit? Don't have the clout, the time, the energy or the talent to make it an international critical success? Realized that it might be the worst movie since Xanadu? You've come to the right place.

We at The Weekly Blurb believe that every film, no matter how
good or bad, deserves a blurb - a nice, punchy, positive bit of praise that can be pulled out here and pasted in your movie's advertising.

A sample, from the Basic Instinct II review (they gave it 10 stars):

David Morrissey brings the same good looks and place-holding capabilities he's brought to other movies he's been in, although I can't think of any offhand at the moment, and David Thewlis and Charlotte Rampling are riveting in supporting roles playing people who have lines.

Any over/under guesses as to the first time a studio actually uses one of these in an ad? I say 6 weeks.

Earl Dittman is combing Monster.com as we speak.

Elklectric Boogaloo

Disney, not content with releasing straight-to-DVD sequels of relatively contemporary cartoons, is bringing out the big names. I discovered this when I saw a copy of Bambi II on a friend's table. The following conversatione ensued:

Pete: "Bambi II, eh?"
Friend: "Yep."
Pete: "Is that the one where Bambi's mother rises from the grave as a flesh-eating zombie hellbent on vengeance against the hunters who killed her?"
Friend: "I…don't think so. I haven't watched it yet."
Pete: "Because that would be awesome."
Friend: "I'm pretty sure it's like the original Bambi, with lots of cute forest creatures and stuff."
Pete: "Oh. Well, I still like my idea."
Friend: "You should write Disney."
Pete: "Definitely. I mean, I'd watch it.
Friend: "Uh-huh."
Pete: And so would at least three of my friends."

Okay, maybe two of my friends.

Satu dengan sempurna cromulent blog

Okay, who's translating APCB into Malay?

Satu lagi ialah "tak pergi tayangan perdana parti sebuah filem, terutamanya jika anda tidak suka ia." Saya telah bahawa satu yang rosak lebih daripada sekali, kecuali neraka dengan ia, saya berkata mereka telah "garis-garis panduan."

I only vaguely remember what that paragraph said in the first place.

This is even better thant he time I found a bunch of my reviews translated into Russian on some .ua site.

"I see you like publicity, Mr. Gittes. Well, you're going to get it."

At most of the screenings I attend, the publicist has roped off a row or two for press and promotional people. I can usually count the number of actual critics there on one-and-a-half hands, with the remainder of the seats taken up by people from the PR company, sponsor radio station, or newspaper folks (the Chronicle and Press coordinate ticket giveaways). As a result, I only occasionally find myself sitting next to a fellow professional complainer movie reviewer, and on most occasions, this isn't a big deal.

Sometimes, however, you have to sit next to the publicist.

I have a couple of guidelines when it comes to meeting people connected with any movie I'm going to review. The most important of which is: "try to avoid it." If I gave a film a good write-up and they want to say 'thanks,' that's one thing, but there are few shittier feelings than meeting the director or cast of a movie you haven't seen, liking them immensely, and then going on to hate the movie itself. It colors the review, however unintentionally, and makes any subsequent interaction exceedingly uncomfortable.

Another one is "don't go the premiere party of a film, especially if you didn't like it." I've broken that one more than once, but the hell with it, I said they were "guidelines."

Sitting next to someone connected with the film during an advance screening is also pretty hairy, because they're excessively tuned in to audience response. You might be able to slump down in your seat and be overlooked, but the publicist is specifically looking for "press" reaction, and if she can solicit your feedback throughout the entire movie, as "Gladys" did last night for the promo showing of Phat Girlz. Some examples of our dialogue follow.

I should preface this by noting that - in a filled-to-capacity stadium style theater, I was one of five white people, and the only one on the press row:[1]

Gladys: "What do you think of [plus-sized star] Mo'Nique?"
Pete: "Uh, she's Mo...Gnificent."

Gladys: "Are you laughing at the movie?"
Pete: "I'm laughing near it."

Gladys: "So what are you going to write about it?"
Pete: "It definitely accomplishes what it set out to do."

I bailed before she could ask a follow-up, thank christ.

[1] Come to think of it, I believe I was the only press person there. Period.

"You're drunk."
"I assure you I'm not, officer. I've only had a few ales."

Unsurprisingly, there seems to be some blowback from the TABC's decision to arrest people for public intoxication while they're still in the process of getting intoxicated:

After an outcry from tourism officials, state lawmakers and the public over a crackdown on public drunkenness in bars, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission is conducting an internal investigation and retraining officers in the program.

Undercover officers will still be ticketing or arresting bar patrons who are deemed exceedingly drunk, but officials are taking the complaints seriously, commission spokeswoman Carolyn Beck said today.

Just so long as you're not complaining over a few pints, one assumes.

TABC officials emphasize that those targeted by undercover officers have been quite drunk, clocking on average a blood alcohol level of .17, twice the legal limit.

Here's the revlevant statute:

§ 49.02. PUBLIC INTOXICATION. (a) A person commits an offense if the person appears in a public place while intoxicated to the degree that the person may endanger the person or another.

That seems a mite arbitrary, at least, it isn't quantifiable solely by BAC. I know guys who like to throw punches after two beers, as well as those who are the biggest pussycats on earth after 12.

Let's see what standards the TABC are using:

Beck has said officers are looking for a collection of behaviors, including stumbling, an inability to stand or being inappropriately loud.

Apparently they won't be frequenting some of the same bars I do, where jukebox or TV volume levels make it necessary to yell just to maintain a conversation.

And "inability to stand" should be viewed as a good thing: if they can't walk, they can't make it to their car.

"He didn't get 'gay' on you, did he?"

Been a while since I've heard about the sinister "gay agenda." Luckily, the American Family Association is on the case:

Wal-Mart has turned aside a massive letter-writing campaign by the American Family Association urging the retailer to refuse to stock Brokeback Mountain, being distributed by Universal Home Entertainment. The group, which has successfully campaigned against what it considers to be broadcast indecency launched the campaign last week after ads for the film began being displayed prominently in the retailer's 3,900 stores. In an interview with today's (Tuesday) Los Angeles Times, the AFA's Randy Sharp, accused Wal-Mart of helping to push the "gay agenda" by "trying to help normalize homosexuality in society." He added, "But how many copies are they going to have to sell to [recoup] the losses of customers who they've offended and will no longer shop at Wal-Mart?" But a Wal-Mart spokeswoman replied, "The fact that we are offering the movie is not an endorsement of the content of the movie or any specific belief. ...We simply offer the latest titles that consumers want."

"No longer shop at Wal-Mart?" See, this is where the AFA strategy backfires. By supporting the retail giant in its quest to drive every other store that sells stuff out of business, they've allowed Wal-Mart to become the only source of clothing, auto parts, groceries, small appliances, and sporting goods for millions of rural Americans. They no longer have a choice.

And Wal-Mart knows it. Don't be surprised if they're increasingly unresponsive to your silly crusades in the future, Randy. Especially when, as in this case, they decide there's money to be made from a film that's already grossed over $100 million worldwide.

Prayerful types needn't worry too much though, Wal-Mart still doesn't stock George Carlin's When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?, America: The Book by the Daily Show gang, that Sheryl Crow album with the handgun lyrics, or any versions of Nirvana's In Utero with the song "Rape Me" listed under its real title (it was changed to "Waif Me" for the retailer).

It isn't like people are still buying In Utero anymore. Or the Carlin book, for that matter.

I [heart] Studs Terkel

Caught Mr. Terkel's appearance on The Daily Show tonight, where he was promoting And They All Sang, his book of entertainment-related interviews ranging from the likes of jazz greats like Dizzy Gillespie and Louis Armstrong to blues and rock artists like Big Bill Broonzy, Bob Dylan, and Janis Joplin.

My first exposure to Terkel was in high school, when I absently picked up a copy of The Good War to go along with my Time-Life photographic history. It was also where I first got an inkling that WWII might be something other than the noble and heroic pursuit countless John Wayne movies had taught me it was. He's one of our last great writers, and I was impressd both by his spirit (the guy had open heart surgery a little while back, and he's almost 94 years old) and the unabashed reverance Jon Stewart showed toward his subject.

Any Terkel is a good read, but in addition to The Good War, you should especially check out Hard Times: And Oral History of the Great Depression and The Great Divide: Second Thoughts on the American Dream.

Play ball

I'd just like to point out that if Cardinals 1B Albert Pujols keeps this up, he's on pace to hit 324 home runs this season.

"So, I guess you'll...hammer later."

A bit too rushed this morning to offer much more than a Nelson Muntz laugh at this news:

U.S. Rep. Tom DeLay, a legendary Republican warrior in the political trenches, is dropping his re-election campaign and will leave Congress early under the shadow of the congressional lobbying scandal.

The shocking move creates a weird scramble for his seat in the burgeoning suburbs south of Houston. The state Republican Executive Committee or the party chairmen in the counties in the 22nd Congressional District will get to nominate a candidate for the November general election, officials said. But first may come a special election to select someone to fill the remainder of DeLay's term through the end of the year.

"This was a political and personal decision he has made," said Richard Cullen, DeLay's attorney in Washington, D.C., who spoke to the congressman on Monday. "He just felt it was the best thing for him, for his family, and for the Republican Party."

Some might think the best thing for the Republican Party would've been not taking money illegally, but whatever.

Cullen denied that DeLay's decision was based on the recent plea bargain by former top aide Tony Rudy, who pleaded guilty to a corruption charge Friday and agreed to cooperate with a federal investigation into lobbying practices in Congress.

"It has absolutely nothing to do with that," Cullen said. "He had made this decision some time ago, before anybody heard anything about the Rudy plea."

You came up with the contingency some time ago, you mean, that DeLay would cut and run if anybody close to him turned state's evidence. Go ahead and stick with that wording if it makes you feel better.

DeLay was collecting warm political eulogies from Republican leaders before his announcement was official.

"Simply put, Tom is one of the most effective and gifted leaders the Republican Party has ever known," said Majority Leader John Boehner, R-Ohio, who succeeded DeLay in the leadership job. "The country owes Tom a great debt of gratitude for helping lead America in a new direction."

I'm just waiting to see what he blames this on first: the "war on Christianity," gays getting married, or the liberal menace.

For the Tolkien completist who also happens to be a wealthy alcoholic...

The world's oldest bottle of scotch is going up for auction tomorrow:

A single cask yielded only 61 unique bottles of this exquisite Scotch whisky. Import laws required a special 750 mL bottle to be made; the item for auction is therefore the only 750 mL bottle of the Glenfiddich Rare Collection 1937 ever produced. The spirit came into being in 1937 when oak cask 843, hand-made by distillery coopers, was filled with liquid from stills at the Glenfiddich Distillery in Dufftown, Scotland, and laid down in a dunnage warehouse to mature. The spirit was slowly aged in cask for 64 years and bottled in 2001, resulting in a liquid of deep, robust character. With a rich walnut color, nose of toffee, cinnamon and cloves and sweet, cedar-y palette, this extraordinary Scotch whisky brims with complex yet subtle notes.

This one-of-a-kind spirit will be sold to the highest bidder with proceeds donated to City Harvest, a charity charged with ending hunger in communities in New York. The lucky buyer will own a piece of history, as Cask 843 has lived through monumental world events including World War II, man landing on the moon and the fall of the Berlin Wall. Glenfiddich Rare Collection 1937 was distilled in the same year the Golden Gate Bridge opened to traffic, JRR Tolkien's 'The Hobbit' was first published and Walt Disney's 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' was first released as a full length animated feature film.

Glenfiddich Malt Master David Stewart notes, "Glenfiddich Rare Collection 1937 is a truly unique and exquisite malt whisky of exceptional character. As well as being the oldest Scotch whisky in the world and a very collectible piece, it would make for the most wonderful taste experience."

This sounds like an extreme example of the kind of scotch people drink if they want to "die penniless," as Ron White would say.

"Hail, Ming!"

As nice as it was to hear that Jill Carroll had been released (I guess even the insurgents understand the negative PR resulting from beheading a cute, white woman), it wasn't until watching Meet the Press this morning that I actually heard of the so-called "controversy" regarding her statements made while in captivity:

Protected by the U.S. military and far from the country where she had been held hostage, Jill Carroll strongly disavowed statements she had made during captivity in Iraq and shortly after her release, saying Saturday she had been repeatedly threatened.

In a video, recorded before she was freed and posted by her captors on an Islamist Web site, Carroll spoke out against the U.S. military presence. But in a statement Saturday, she said the recording was made under threat. Her editor has said three men were pointing guns at her at the time.

"During my last night in captivity, my captors forced me to participate in a propaganda video. They told me I would be released if I cooperated. I was living in a threatening environment, under their control, and wanted to go home alive. So I agreed," she said in a statement read by her editor in Boston.
[...]
"At any rate, fearing retribution from my captors, I did not speak freely. Out of fear, I said I wasn't threatened. In fact, I was threatened many times," she said. "Also, at least two false statements about me have been widely aired: One — that I refused to travel and cooperate with the U.S. military, and two — that I refused to discuss my captivity with U.S. officials. Again, neither statement is true."

The remarks have drawn criticism from conservative bloggers and commentators, but the Monitor said "Carroll did what many hostage experts and past captives would have urged her to do: Give the men who held the power of life and death over her what they wanted."

I'm sure those criticizing Carroll for her "traitorous" behavior have foreign policy experience reaching all the way back to '80s cinema, where it didn't matter how many Soviet commandos were holding AK-47s to your head, the only statements you should make would be the equivalent of, "Murdoch, I'm coming to get you" before heroically breaking free and single-handedly wiping out an entire battalion.

Me, I'm a sight larger than Jill Carroll (I'm taller than Stallone too, for that matter), and given the same circumstances I'd be only too happy to mouth whatever ridiculous propaganda they placed in front of me. I might even, to quote another '80s icon, "consider makin' up some shit" if it meant I could keep my head and see my family again. If that makes me a traitor, pass the falafel.

Can't hardly wait

Matthew, the administrator of the SKYWAY mailing list, assures us this is not an April Fool's joke:

Color us fucking impressed: Original flannel gods the Replacements have recorded their first new material since 1990. According to a press release from Rhino Records, 3/4 of the original lineup (and the only surviving ones), Paul Westerberg, Tommy Stinson, and Chris Mars, reconvened last December in Minneapolis to record two new Westerberg-penned tunes, "Message to the Boys" and "Pool & Dive," for the upcoming Replacements compilation Don't You Know Who I Think I Was?: The Best of the Replacements.

According to Billboard.com, the tracks were recorded at producer Ed Ackerson's Flowers Studio. Josh Freese (Vandals, A Perfect Circle) played the drums; original drummer Mars opted out of stick duties in favor of recording backing vocals. No mention was made of former guitarist Slim Dunlap who performed with the band from 1987 to 1991, following original guitarist Bob Stinson's departure. (Bob Stinson died in 1995.)
[...]
Don't You Know Who I Think I Was? is scheduled for release on June 13, and will feature 18 classic tracks alongside the pair of new recording. It will also mark the second officially sanctioned 'Mats compilation since the group disbanded in 1991, and the first to encompass their entire career, as 1997's All For Nothing, Nothing For All only documented their later, less influential, years on Sire.
[...]
As if that isn't enough news from the long-dormant outfit, a recent Rhino podcast revealed details of a Replacements box set tentatively due out next year. Featuring a new interview with founding member (and current Guns n' Roses bassist) Tommy Stinson, the podcast unveiled plans for a multi-disc package that will draw from the band's entire back catalog, including a host of previously unreleased material, as well as a DVD of live performances.

New material? Great news. Boxed set? Awesome news. Now to complete the superlative trifecta, you guys need to put together another tour. Hit the club circuit (none of this 10,000 seat theater or festival crap) and thrash out "Bastards of Young" and "Alex Chilton" in front of a couple hundred sweaty, drunken fans. You guys are one of the greatest rock and roll bands of all time, time to remind people currently choking on shit like Fall Out Boy and the All-American Rejects of that fact.

And I know y'all don't remember that 1988 show you played at the Texas Union Ballroom any better than I do. Help a brother out.