A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

Prolonging the agony

Yes, I realize the Astros are now a mere 1/2 game behind the struggling St. Louis Cardinals, having won...what, 9 of their last 10? While the Cards have gone 2 and 8 (or something, I'm not bothering to look it up) over the same period, allowing Houston to overcome a seemingly insurmountable 7.5 deficit in the NL Central with 12 games remaining. Now, going into the last weekend of the season, Houston has a very real chance to take the division outright and make the playoffs.

I'm not here to stand up for the woebegone Cards, or to say the Astros are still going to choke, or even to offer myself up to your Muntzian chortles (though I realize that's a possible repercussion). No, I'm here to tell you I don't care.

The Cardinals, in case you missed the bulletin, stink. They've lost their closer, Jason Isringhausen (who, with 10 blown saves on the season, wasn't great shakes to begin with), for the season, the only pitcher worth a damn in their starting rotation is Chris Carpenter, and he's lost his last two starts, and even with the return of Jim "Sun-In" Edmonds, the only player who strikes any terror in opposing teams is Albert Pujols, and he's easy enough to pitch around.

In short, I hope St. Louis doesn't make the playoffs. Even if they limp their way into the post-season, they have no chance winning the NLDS, much less the pennant, at their current strength. I would rather, quite frankly, watch some other team get their ass handed to them by the Tigers or the Twins in the World Series than see the Cardinals get mangled any further.

No offense to Styx, but just let it end already.

Smack My Boll Up II

Who interrupts my enjoyment of the Pants Off Dance Off marathon?

Speaking of shoddy movie making, you better watch your back…i hear your old friend uwe boll is on the warpath:

http://news.independent.co.uk/europe/article1757273.ece
--Posted by hudsucker on September 26, 2006 10:51 AM

Facetiously refer to my "old friend" at your peril, hudsucker. After all, I'm the one who came to the good Herr Doktor's defense not too long ago. I never asserted that his movies were anything other than the celluloid embodiment of some ancient Sumerian curse, but he's hardly unique in that regard (*cough* Ratner *cough*).

Anyway, the big payoff to his mildly hyped Critics Challenge finally hit the internet tubes this week. Care to take a look?

Me neither. It's hardly a surprise that Boll - a man who felt BloodRayne didn't get the credit it deserved for giving us Kristianna Loken's boobs and talked about its franchise potential with nary a hint of irony - beat the shit out of these guys. He seriously thinks that pummeling his detractors somehow legitimizes his films, so of course he trained like a beast for this. Now that he can claim victory over the likes of Rich Kyanka and Jeff Sneider, I'm sure some part of him believes Dungeon Siege is safe from criticism.

As for those participants crying foul because Boll insisted on only fighting those with no boxing experience while he himself has an extensive pugilistic backround...it's Uwe Boll, people. He spun the whole thing as a "PR exercise" while secretly plotting to exert some of that unique Teutonic rage on a few of his many detractors. You'd have to be a fucking idiot to think this was anything less than an opportunity for sweet, sweet revenge.

I also have a boat I'd like to give them at my nondescript, city-owned building downtown, if they're interested.

"We are a collection of screaming jackasses."

After a slow start, this week turned out pretty well movie-wise.

All the King's Men - **1/2
A not-so-thinly veiled salvo against the current regime. In order to get anyone to care, Penn probably should've thrown in a few anacondas and a taser to the nuts.

Jackass: Number Two - *****
Speaking of...yes, five stars. Unrelentingly hilarious, and unashamedly psychotic. Welcome to 21st century entertainment.

Feast - ****1/2
Clu Gulager's last hurrah? If so, a dandy effort.

Bitte Hammer, verletzt du sie nicht

Next to last night's screening of Jackass: Number Two (and once again affirming my appreciation of the infantile) this picture - sent to me by another anonymous benefactor - is the funniest thing I've seen in months:

Did I mention it's been a slow couple of months?

Because April Fool's Day doesn't fall on a Tuesday

I've been trying to avoid paying attention to any of the following for the past year, in the belief that doing so will somehow cleanse my subconscious and make me a better human being:

Paris "Echo Chamber" Hilton
The Spawn of Cruise
Britney Spears and/or Kevin Federline
Brangelinaston
Lindsay "Clinical Exhaustion" Lohan

A throwaway reference to Spears/Federline in my Idiocracy review apparently prompted a certain someone to lob me this little news item, for which I have sworn upon the altar of Wotan eternal hostility against them:

The only baby Britney Spears and Kevin Federline are talking about right now is K-Fed's debut album.

Federline will release the rap album "Playing With Fire" on Oct. 31.

He is offering an autographed photo to the first 500 people who preorder it through his online store.

Federline made his national television debut recently on the Teen Choice Awards -- and was slammed with some negative reviews.

Among them was Elliot Wilson of the hip-hop magazine XXL, who said Federline was "a joke, basically."

I am sorely, nay, achingly tempted to order a signed photo for friends and family. A pity funds are so tight.

Funny, she doesn't look like Lindsay Wagner

But she's still a bionic woman:

A former US Marine has become the first woman in the world to be fitted with a "bionic" arm that she can control by her thoughts alone.

Claudia Mitchell lost her left arm at the shoulder in a motorbike accident.

Her new arm works by detecting movements of a chest muscle that has been connected to the remains of nerves that once went to her real arm.

The first prototype was fitted to double amputee Jesse Sullivan four years ago. However, the latest version has been significantly improved.

Using it Ms Mitchell, 26, can now fold clothes, eat a banana and do the washing up.

"Washing up?" Kind of gives a new spin to "Your clothes, give them to me."

So what if it's not quite teaming up with aliens to defeat Bigfoot after he critically injured Steve Austin ("The Return of Bigfoot" from Season 2, duh). Baby steps, people.

The ends of the nerves that once controlled the arm were removed from her shoulder and connected to nerves in the chest muscle, some of which conveyed sensation from the skin above.

Over several months the transplanted nerves grew into the muscle tissue.

Once this happened electrodes fixed to a harness worn on the shoulder were able to detect impulses emitted from the nerves into the muscle and forward them to the arm.

These impulses are processed by a computer, which is able to direct the arm to make very precise movements.

All in all, this is very cool. And I don't even begrudge her the return of my vintage Terminator nightmares.

R.I.P. Gov-Ann-or

Ann Richards, the last Governor of Texas I voted for and one of the few class act politicians this state has produced, died yesterday:

Ann Richards, who shed the role of homemaker to rise through Texas politics to become the state's 45th governor and a national celebrity, died Wednesday after a six-month battle with cancer. She was 73.

Richards was diagnosed with esophageal cancer in March.

Richards was the quintessential Texas woman, with a sassy homespun charm, sharp wit and tough pioneer spirit. With bright silver hair, a weathered face and an affinity for cobalt blue suits and pearls, Richards was instantly recognizable to national television audiences.

As a Democratic politician, Richards' 1990 race for governor against Republican cowboy oilman Clayton Williams became a battle of the sexes. Her victory symbolically broke down gender barriers for a generation of Texas women who were seeking professional careers.

Richards labeled her administration the "New Texas," appointing more Hispanics, blacks and women to state boards and commissions than any previous governor. She pushed for increases in public education funding and promoted business expansion in the state.

A recovering alcoholic, Richards also pressed lawmakers to increase funding for drug and alcohol abuse treatment programs.

Polls showed Richards was the most personally popular governor in 30 years. But a liberal image kept her job approval rating beneath 50 percent, and she lost her 1994 re-election bid to Republican George W. Bush, the future president.

Late in her term as governor, the Houston Chronicle asked Richards how she viewed her gubernatorial legacy.

"How about, 'She changed the economic future of Texas,'" Richards replied. "And that really beats what I feared my tombstone was going to say, and that was: 'She kept a really clean house.'"

I had the pleasure of meeting Governor Richards twice. Once at her inauguration in 1991, and again as documented here.

Okay, so that last one isn't quite so impressive.

Richards was one of the few politicians I could cast a ballot for and not feel like I'd just supported the lesser of two evils. Her biggest mistake, and one which we're still paying for today, was not taking George W. Bush more seriously in the 1994 election.

Chuck has a great story about Richards here. And Capitol Annex has a nice collection of links.

Rest in peace, Governor. And thanks.

"Now, here's the problem as I see it: while Governor Bailey is beloved by all, ninety-eight percent of the voters rate you as despicable or worse."

Like several others (including Michael), I liked the idea of Kinky Friedman running for governor of Texas. Given Perry's abysmal record, Strayhorn's insanity, and - frankly - Chris Bell's lack of presence, the idea of an outsider like Friedman bringing something new to the race appealed to me.

In much the same way playing the same song 20 times in a row on a bar's jukebox appeals to me, I guess.

Then again, a lot of people bought into Jesse Ventura and Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose situations weren't necessarily parallel to Friedman's. Even so, they demonstrated the apparent feasibility of such a campaign.

Far from "bringing something new" to the gubernatorial contest, however, Friedman has yet to bring anything aside from increasingly tired one-liners and increasingly idiotic opinions, such as:

"I am going to see nondenominational prayer and the Ten Commandments put back in the schools," he told the Kilgore News Herald several weeks ago.

"If you don't love Jesus, go to hell," he added.

Well fuck you, too. And then there's this:

He told conservative TV commentator Bill O'Reilly last year that he would "seal the border" against illegal immigrants by bringing in the "National Guard, the Texas Rangers, the entire Polish Army, whatever it takes."

"Good fences make good neighbors," he added.

More recently, as quoted in the Dallas Morning News, Friedman said, "My immigration policy is 'Remember the Alamo.'"

Tongue in cheek (as he likes to claim) or not, the fact that Friedman is spewing this kind of bilge is - at best - disappointing. At worst, it's an alarming indicator that the dude has no intention of taking the job seriously, even if he's elected.

Joke's over, Kinky. If you aren't prepared to give no-bullshit answers to questions about immigration and articulate a position that consists of something more insightful than "not eating burritos in the barrio," then step aside for someone serious about doing the job right. Texas is in sorry enough shape after six years under an incompetent governor. The last thing we need at this point is a clown.

EDIT: Link corrected. For some reason, it's no longer up on the Chron website.

Awesome game

Certainly, there was some nervousness going into last night's big football game. Both teams were highly ranked, and both were looking all the way to the the end of the season and a possible championship run. There was also plenty of speculation that, after losing some key players, my alma mater wouldn't be able to pull it off.

It was a nailbiter, with many turnovers and some poor decision making, but I'm happy to say my boys were able to eke out a victory and go to 2-0 on the season. Nicely done.

I'm talking about #4 A&M Consolidated's 17-14 victory over Leander, of course. What game were you guys watching?

"Well, he's always been lacking in moral fiber."
"He knows a lot about Sean Connery."
"That's hardly a substitute."

I've been in the minority regarding Daniel Craig as Bond almost since the news of his casting broke (see here and here). To give you an idea of my stance, here's my ranking of past Bonds:

1. Sean Connery
2. Pierce Brosnan (barely)
3. Timothy Dalton
4. George Lazenby
5. Roger Moore

It's not too hard to figure out what happened in recent years; receipts for the last few Bond films took a nosedive, while those for a certain other secret agent franchise went in the opposite direction. In effect, Bond has now been "Bourne-ified."

I never bought the '70s invention of Bond as something of a dandy, and look forward to finally seeing Craig get his chicken wing on. I'm providing a link to the latest and greatest trailer for Casino Royale, which willl be my last word on the matter until my review in November.

Didn't see any movies this week, in case you couldn't tell.

Oh, how the shoggoth of you clings...

I didn't see anything about the "noisome stench of a thousand tombs," so I have no idea if this description of the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's new scent, for R'yleh, is accurate:

The sunken city of the Great God Cthulhu. A hellishly dark aquatic scent, evocative of fathomless oceanic deeps, the mysteries of madness buried under crushing black waters, and the brooding eternal evil that lies beneath the waves.

No dice? There's always Azathoth, Y'Ha-Nthlei, and my favorite, Nyarlathotep:

Brooding, yet electric: the scent of buried secrets, roiling nightmares, the essence of the Crawling Chaos, the Father of Knives and Locusts, the Hunter in the Dark. This is the blackest of ritual incenses charged with flashes of ozone.

It's no Black Goat in the Woods With a Thousand Young, but whatever, my birthday shopping for The Wife is done.

"The extra 'B' stands for 'BYOBB.'"
"What's that extra 'B' for?"
"That's a typo."

My understanding of Labor Day is that one tends to labor less than usual. I have a history of getting these things wrong, however, which is probably why I spent five hours in brisk early September Houston weather barbecuing ribs for the three of us.

That's one rack, though I couldn't gotten away with two if spending all afternoon fooling around with open flame didn't tend to curb my appetite (She Who Shall Not Be Named and the daughter of some friends of ours almost killed a whole rack on their own about a month ago).

My smoker can handle about eight racks at a time, however. But never mind that, because I just realized I haven't introduced you all to the finished version of Smogdor (previously written about here), a four foot section of schedule 40 steam pipe welded to a 1/4" plate fire box and put together by the occasionally mentioned Sir Not Appearing In This Blog:

Crappy paint job courtesy of yours truly. Rain courtesy of last July 4th, when these pictures were taken.

Side view:

Some minor alterations are needed, including a hole/mount for an enternal thermometer and maybe some more vents in the side of the fire box. The fan you see is necessary to help get primary ignition going. The max temp that I've run it up to, to bake the inside and heat the exterior for painting, was 450. Not that I cook at that temperature, mind.

Finally, an action shot:

I think I had five racks and about a dozen sausages going at that point. I usually wrap the ribs in foil (after liberal application of rub from B&W Meat Co.) and cook them meat down for about 4 hours at 250-275, then add some sauce, open the foil, and let them smoke meat up for another 30 minutes. It takes me anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour to get the fire up to speed.

That and toast are the only two things I actually know how to cook.