A Perfectly Cromulent Blog

"Let's hurl a brick-e-mart."

Lots of doings and transpirings in the Simpsons world these days. In spite of the show's current incarnation being more painful to watch than a Full House marathon, this is still A Perfectly Cromulent Blog. If I don't respect my roots, I'm nothing but an intermittently updated vanity site relying more and more on YouTube videos and one-link posts with a minimum of commentary.

Uh, anyway...one thing the Simpsons still manage to do well from time to time is the venerable couch gag. I didn't actually watch "Homerazzi," the 16th season(!) episode this one was attached to, but here's the Evolution of the Simpsons:

Or, the Devolution of Moe, if you prefer.

There's also a movie coming out this summer, in case you hadn't heard. In honor of such an occasion (and obviously banking that a film based on a dying television property with no less tha ten attached writers is going to be really huge), certain 7-11s around the country may be looking for the sweetest Apu:

It appears as though the world's largest convenience store will get Simpsonized, though 7-Eleven Inc. said the deal isn't done yet.

But at a company event yesterday in Richmond, officials showcased their planned promotional efforts with major upcoming films, including "The Simpsons Movie."

If all goes as planned, the convenience store chain plans to refit 11 stores across the U.S. -- Richmond is an unlikely choice -- to resemble the front of the Kwik-E-Mart, the convenience store that Homer and other characters frequent in the classic cartoon TV series.

Customers also will be able to buy products inspired by the nearly two-decades-old show, including KrustyO's cereal, Buzz Cola and iced Squishees (the cup says Squishee, but the contents will be Slurpee).

Houston hasn't had a 7-11 in over ten years, since the Southland Corp. sold them all the Diamond Shamrock. So not only do I have to drink a year's worth of Slurpees in a few days every time I go to Austin, but I guess I'm going to need someone to take some photos for me if this ever actually happens.

She's a lady

First, a little history:

Far be it from me to criticize a band for sucking - as Fall Out Boy clearly does - or to lament the "good old days" when there was at least a miniscule gap between the time a band became popular and when it started whoring out its music to all takers. The truth is, the above Vcast ad makes me laugh, solely because Film Threat's Mark Bell and I got so much hilarity out of it at SXSW.

Every time the phone rang, it was "my lady." Every emphatic conversational point was punctuated by a swirling index finger thrust. Every remotely rocking song got. Us. "Pumped!" A sentiment we made sure to express with big, vaguely psychotic, shit-eating grins on our faces.

Mark now tells me there's a new commercial that (I think) features a gay guy in a dog park, but I can't bring myself to watch it. I shared something memorable with that tousel-haired meathead. It just wouldn't feel right.

"Pete runs afoul of an Irishman"

St. Patrick's Day is rapidly climbing the list of my least favorite holidays. I doubt it will ever supplant Valentine's Day, or the forced jocularity of New Year's Eve, but like the latter it presumes you will at some point be spending a sizeable portion of your evening crammed in with a bunch of amateur drunks. We went to the downtown parade today (my verdict: needed more bagpipe), and I think that's enough for me.

The Wife is off for an evening with the girls, which suits me fine. My liver's still working on its SXSW backlog. She Who Shall Not Be Named is tucked away with Mr. Pig*, and I'm going to watch some more basketball (all my Elite 8 teams are still alive, thus far), last week's Battlestar Galactica, and maybe Casino Royale again.

At least the opening chase scene.

To accompany me this evening, I have some Allagash Dubbel Reserve and this fearsome concoction, given to me by award-winning filmmaker Don Lewis last week in Austin. And none of it is green.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, all. Play nice. Drive safe.

* Want to have fun some time? Let your three-year old daughter pick out a stuffed animal at Target, take it to the register with out realizing it has no price tag, and watch the clueless sales associate yank it away from you and run off to do a price check while your child shrieks at being robbed of her new best friend.

It was like something out of "Guernica."

"One thing about living in [Serbia] I never could stomach..."

All the goddamned vampires:

Serbian vampire hunters have acted to prevent the very remote possibility that former dictator Slobodan Milosevic might stage a come-back - by driving a three-foot stake through his heart.

According to Ananova, the politically-motivated Van Helsings, led by Miroslav Milosevic (no relation), gave themselves up to cops after attacking the deceased despot in his grave in the eastern town of Pozarevac. Milosevic popped his clogs back in 2006, while on trial in a UN war crimes tribunal for various unsavoury activities connected with the disintegration of the former Yugoslavia.

Miroslav Milosevic said "he and his fellow vampire hunters acted to stop the former dictator returning from the dead to haunt the country". His team explained that the wooden stake had been "driven into the ground and through the late president's heart".

Slobodan Milosevic's Socialist Party of Serbia naturally condemned the desecration, while his daughter-in-law Milica Gajic said she "planned to sue the vampire hunters and accused the police of failing to protect the grave properly".

I admire any publication that freely uses the expression, "popped his clogs."

Milosevic is as good a candidate as any for undeath. I trust similar crack teams are fanning out across the globe to administer the same treatment to the likes of Pinochet and Mobutu (one assumes the heavy hitters like Hitler, Stalin, and Mao would've risen by now if they were going to).

In other news, yes - I'm back from SXSW. No, I'm nowhere near caught up on my sleep or sobriety.

When the server is running down

Aggravating news for everyone trying to get Police pre-sale tickets yesterday morning:

An automated ticket broker script was programmed to start hitting our system at the start of presales today. Our security measures blocked the attack, but the automated scripts from the ticket brokers continued to try to find a way into our ticket system and all this build up of traffic caused the site to crash. We have stabilized the site and will continue with presales today as scheduled below.

Members were supposed to be able to get tickets at 10 AM, which was bumed to 11 AM on the Ticketmaster site without any fanfare. This got bumped back to noon after the above announcement hit the web page, much to the consternation of just about everyone on the message boards.

So to sum up, existing members got to buy at noon yesterday, people wanting to wait for the "bundle" on Ticketmaster (electing to join if tickets were available) got their shot at 4 PM, while the general public has to wait until Saturday morning.

And then there are those of who were able to get in and get their tickets at the regular time anyway. That's right, I'll be at the Toyota Center June 29 with all the other almost-middle-aged idiots desperately trying to cling to the dissipating tendrils of their youth.

Any chance they won't play "Every Breath You Take?"

Captain America is dead

Long live Captain America:

He fought and triumphed over Hitler, Tojo, international Communism and a host of supervillains, but he could not dodge a sniper's bullet.

Comic book hero Captain America is dead.

After close to 60 years in print, Marvel Comics has killed off Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, one of its most famous and beloved superheroes amid an already controversial story line, "Civil War," which is pitting the heroes of Marvel's universe against one another.

In the comic series, Rogers was to stand trial for defying a superhero registration law passed after a hero's tragic mistake causes a 9/11-like event.

Steve Rogers eventually surrenders to police. He is later mortally wounded as he climbs the courthouse steps.

Moderate nerdery follows...

Growing up, the three comic books I read with any regularity were Detective Comics, Amazing Spider-Man, and Captain America. I've been through the highs (Miller's depiction in his "Born Again" story, Ultimate Cap beating the shit out of Giant-Man in The Ultimates) and the lows (Arnim Zola, the "Nomad" years). I've even managed, after many years of alcohol abuse, to purge the memories of Rob Liefeld's "re-imagining" from my mind.

After hearing all the hoopty-hoo surrounding the news today, I thought I should point out a few things:

1. Cap has "died" before. At the least, he was "presumed dead" in Captain America #112, an issue illustrated by Jack Kirby after Jim Steranko had taken over writing duties. That turned out - big surprise - to be a fake.

2. Nobody, and I mean nobody, stays dead in comic books. Two characters we were assured would never return from the grave - Bucky (Cap's first sidekick, coincidentally) and Spider-Man's Uncle Ben - have both, in fact, returned.

3. According to the Wikipedia entry (I know, I know), he isn't even dead this time:

In Civil War: The Initiative, Ms. Marvel tells Spider-Woman (Jessica Drew) that Captain America is not dead but "...tucked away safe on the Raft..." with doctors working to save him.

Everyone knows how the Death of Superman turned out, and while I'm not saying Captain America's is as popular as Supes, let's just say I'd be shocked if he stays dead for more than 12 issues.

In the meantime...

They even worked in a "NOOO!" George Lucas would be proud.

And everything I had to know
I heard it on my radio

I can count on one hand the number of musicians/artists whose deaths have affected me beyond a cursory "Gee, that sucks" exclamation, but one of them was Freddie Mercury. The news that he'd kicked was like a punch in the gut to a guy who'd been a Queen fan since their News of the World days.

When he died in 1991, the BBC aired a tribute. I ran across Pt. 1 on MetaFilter. Normally it wouldn't warrant an individual post, but I ran across it the same day I saw this story on the BBC about George Michael playing the first concert at the new Wembley Stadium:

Singer George Michael is to play the first concert at the new Wembley Stadium, it has been announced.

The pop star will perform at the 90,000 capacity venue on 9 June as part of his British and European stadium tour.

Michael, 43, played several key gigs at the old stadium, including Live Aid in 1985 and Wham's farewell concert in 1986 with ex-bandmate Andrew Ridgeley.

Bully for him, but for this particular non-Briton who never got a chance to actually visit the place, the ultimate old Wembley gig was Queen in1986. To this day, I regret never getting to see them live.

I won't make the same mistake when Iron Maiden comes through here again.

Balls to the wall

Chris provides a timely update to my entry on the encroaching horror of truck nuts:

A foolish politician with nothing better to do has introduced legislation to ban novelty truck testicles. Doran says

Maryland Delegate LeRoy E. Myers Jr. has filed legislation to ban the display of those oh-so-chic Truck Nuts and "anatomically correct" human or animal genitalia from the back of pick-up trucks.

From the WaPo story:

"People are making a joke out of it," Myers said yesterday. "But I think it's a pretty serious problem. You have body parts hanging from the hitches of cars. We've crossed a line."

I guess Myers, now that he's taken such a brave stance against body parts, will be introducing a bill to ban people from strapping deer corpses to their hoods. That oughta fly with the hunting crowd.

"Even the Chinese are against me."

I ran the URL for APCB through The Great Firewall of China to see if I'm censored. In spite of my pinko leanings, I'm apparently no friend of Mao:

Blog 9, however, is not blocked. Which only goes to prove what we suspected all along: that all newspapers are tools of the International Communist Conspiracy.