1. Screw football, I spent the weekend watching Charlotte Rampling movies.
In Under the Sand, she plays a suicide widow putting on a brave face, just barely. She’s a repressed crime novelist on holiday in Swimming Pool (sex, drugs, murder, underwear theft, and gloppy yogurt mixtures are prominently featured). She graces only three or four scenes in Farewell, My Lovely, but she kills every one.
She was giving me the kind of look I could feel in my hip pocket …
2. According to the entrepreneurial masterminds at DoodyCalls, poop scooping for hire is a burgeoning market:
Currently, Americans spend approximately $34 billion dollars on their pets. That figure represents a growth rate of 100% during the past decade … And this growing market doesn’t just include individual pet owners. It also comprises homeowners associations, apartment complexes, and parks-anywhere dogs roam and “do their thing.”
I often dog-sit for my mom: Zack, a yellow lab with the energy of twenty-five toddlers and the brain power of one twenty-fifth of one toddler, and a cagey, arthritic twelve year-old mutt named Lucy.
The house is across the street from the ocean. I take Zack to the beach two or three times per day, where he chases tennis balls to the point of exhaustion and pees triumphantly on all seaweed and driftwood in the vicinity.
He is always very much at peace with the universe upon his return:
If I’d panned the camera to the left, you’d have seen Lucy glaring at the wall, grimly reminiscing about how pleasant her life used to be, before he showed up to slobber in her water bowl, bark at imaginary intruders, and hog all the human attention. My parents and I euphemistically refer to Zack as “a piece of work”. When Lucy talks to other dogs, I’m pretty sure she uses the term “retarded cousin”.
The moniker is not without merit.
If a doorbell rings on NCIS, he springs to his feet, belts out a yelp to alert everyone to the danger at hand, races downstairs doing his super-ferocious (or so he thinks) bark-growl-bristle act, then, finding nothing, shifts to a low-volume growl and performs a full property reconnoissance. I have tried to explain to him that a) the TV is not real, and b) usually home invaders don’t ring the doorbell, but to no avail.
When the house was brand new, just built, the first thing he did, seconds after flying through the entranceway in full-on oh my god oh my god new thing new thing smells! head explosion mode, was poop in the middle of the living room floor. I don’t want to paint myself as heroic or anything, but rather than hit the DoodyCalls speed dial on my cell phone, I grabbed a roll of paper towels and took care of the problem.
3. Unsurprisingly, the Italian mafia is somewhat less meticulous in the area of waste disposal than the plucky poop scoopers at DoodyCalls. Their tried and true process is to load a tanker with nuclear waste, send it several kilometers out to sea, and blow it up. No muss, no fuss, high margins.
An official said that if the samples proved to be radioactive then a search for up to 30 other sunken vessels believed scuttled by the mafia would begin immediately.
4. A belated addendum to our recent discussion concerning the cult of personality that, depending on your point of view, may or may not surround Barack Obama: just like political parties, corporations fetishize their leadership and ascribe inspiration to platitudes. To wit, Zappos:
A C.L.T. manager named Jane Judd, her eyes damp, described a Q. & A. session she had heard Hsieh conduct with some visiting Time Warner executives. “Our service isn’t everything it could be,” he’d said. “If we didn’t have to think about cost, the reps would personally get on a plane today and deliver that box.”
“I always call him my little Dalai Lama,” Judd said.
Beware the corporate definition of happiness. Most of the time it implies incessant, overbearing perkiness. Everything is GREAT, just FANTASTIC, we are a TEAM.
Zappos may not be a cult, but working there seems akin to sitting in a sports arena; you have to be prepared to stand up and do the wave at any time.
[…]
Back at Jadkowski’s twinkly workstation, there had been no sign of anything ominous. A parade of “Zappos Insights” students in suits, some wearing purple crowns printed with the Zappos logo, was tromping through the office. Their “graduation” had been marked with a serenade from an in-house a-cappella group, the Zappettes. “Congratulations on your graduation. We know you’re filled with joy and elation,” they sang. “We just want to say, we’re glad you came our way.”
Shiny happy fascists, I say.
5. You can have your own blog in a matter of minutes. You can publish dynamic, incisive analysis, uncorrupted by the Corporate Media, for free! And anyone can read it, for free! Technology plus Democracy equals Public Square Revolution! No more bankrupt bought and sold bullshit. The barriers have collapsed, man, you don’t have to regurgitate some line, you’re not beholden to anyone. From your goddamn mother’s basement, in your underwear, you can go to war with CNN. The playing field is fucking flat.
Ah, well, it was a beautiful (if expletive-laden) dream while it lasted:
Of the top 50 blogs, 21 are owned by such familiar names as CNN, the New York Times, ABC, and AOL. And many blogs that began as solo operations are developing into full-fledged publications.
[…]
An immense proportion of the online readership—roughly 42% of all blog traffic—flows to the top 50 blogs. Their dominance of the market is reinforced by the dynamics of the Web itself: users hunting for blogs typically end up directed by search engines to the same group of highly-linked, already popular sites. What’s more, even deliberate attempts to go off the beaten path aren’t likely to lead out of the conglomerate world: the most lucrative niche categories have attracted dominant brands, too, with AOL alone owning 27 of the top 100 blogs, in categories ranging from automobiles, to free software, to independent film and pop culture. The big brands have become so powerful that it’s little wonder that 94 percent of the blogs counted in Technorati’s 2008 State of the Blogosphere report have been shuttered and abandoned.
6. We own loads more stuff than we used to, we replace the stuff we have with increasing frequency, and we spend enormous sums of money to warehouse the stuff we’ve replaced but can’t bear to throw away:
[B]y the early ’90s, American families had, on average, twice as many possessions as they did 25 years earlier. By 2005, according to the Boston College sociologist Juliet B. Schor, the average consumer purchased one new piece of clothing every five and a half days.
[…]
After a monumental building boom, the United States now has 2.3 billion square feet of self-storage space. (The Self Storage Association notes that, with more than seven square feet for every man, woman and child, it’s now “physically possible that every American could stand — all at the same time — under the total canopy of self-storage roofing.”)
A multi-billion dollar industry built on people storing old tables and bed frames into perpetuity is one of the most egregious absurdities I can imagine. It’s the accumulation ethic gone berserk.
[shifts out of sanctimony, into sentimentality/amateur neuropsychology]
I recently sold my CD collection. It had been boxed and untouched for years, as I long ago sold out to mp3’s. Yet after they were gone, I lapsed into a nostalgic sadness, a guilty feeling almost, like I’d burned a family photo album. I could still remember buying my first CD (at the now-defunct The Wiz in NW DC), but now that the actual thing was gone, the memory seemed incomplete, less trustworthy.
Of course, memory is always incomplete and untrustworthy, and after a day or so my wistfulness dissipated and I was glad to have the cash.
Still, it seems clear that personal artifacts and storytelling reinforce memory, or at least aid in constructing the plausible past scenarios that we call “memory”. I guess this means that if you keep all your crap and talk about your life a lot, you will have better luck retaining vibrant memories than an antisocial minimalist.
I was told a few years ago by a buddy that the Chinese government has invested heavily in self-storage companies, the better to sustain the relentless American drive to own stuff (produced by the Chinese). If that’s true, it’s brilliant.
I heard FEMA actually secretly owns them all, and that’s where the camps will be set up.
I spent the weekend sick in bed, again. But the time passed quickly as I watched football baseball and golf on the TV, while watching live streaming video coverage of the 24 Hours of Lemons race in South Carolina. I know I’ve plugged it before, and no one cares, but an endurance race of $500 crapheap cars with humorous themes governed by bribe-taking judges is serious fun.
What would a … non-money-making “racket” look like?
Also: I misread “celebrated with clanging cowbells, followed by vodka shots at a local Claim Jumper restaurant” as happening at a local Clam Jumper restaurant, and mentally made a note to take a roll of Kenickies there the next time I’m in NV and feeling randy.
1. You might be confusing your Gainsbourgs with your Ramplings.
5. That is a pretty good idea. I’m sure a lot of pages are tied for “least”, though, on every subject imaginable.
1. Ah, damn. Tangent: there’s a town in VT named Charlotte, pronounced shar-LAHT. St Alban’s? SNALLbns (yes, no vowel there where the second one should be). And, of course, Calais — KALLiss.
I feel like google should have this setting. If any FK-er works there now, they probably already do.
nevermoor, welcome back.
For about 30 seconds this morning, I entertained the idea of incorporating an imagined honeymoon scene involving you, Mrs.nevermoor, and a heated Megan McArdle debate into this DLD. Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about NAFTA or Ayn Rand to make it funny.
Resort veranda somewhere in Mexico. Deck chairs, white sand, sunshine, umbrella drinks. Mrs.nevermoor reclines on a chaise lounge, flips breezily through the latest Atlantic Monthly. You think you hear her say “fricking glibertarian” under her breath, but you can’t be sure, part of you despairs at the ad hominem, part of you wonders if she said fricking instead of fucking for the alliteration, and can’t decide if that would be weird or awesome … hilarity ensues.
Haha… awesome.
Of course, Mrs. Nevermoor (I am nothing at all like grover this way) is far more polite than I am about people like McArdle.
Keep your eyes peeled, Krautniks: Neyer is proximal
good Bad Lieutenant tidings
One thing’s for sure: Herzog would never make a Replacement Level Lieutenant.
I want a pair of these
Having suffered through really wanting to wear these:
when I was a kid, but always being dissapointed by how uncomfortable they were, I’m skeptical.
Oh, I NEVER wanted those. I could just tell I’d hate them, no matter how fun they looked.
They look kind of, um…fetish-y…I think I could get behind them.
Oh, so that isn’t a picture of your feet? My bad. Oh and TWSS.
I’m sorry, but I think this is going to be just awful.
1. Ricky Gervais isn’t funny
2. Angry (with very few insane exceptions, none of which I can even think of right now) isn’t funny (cf, Idiocracy)
Do you find The Office (UK version) unfunny, or have you never seen it?
The former. I find the US version far superior.
I am vehemently with you. Ricky Gervais’s humor escapes me.
But — but he’s such a deliciously scandalous truth-teller and illuminator of the banal awkwardness of the quotidian!
Took a lot of red ink, but … Fixed.
Strange that you would like the American version, given that the first season or two were basically line for line copies of the original, with worse actors. And subsequent seasons were still grounded in extracting humor from ordinaryness, an approach you appear to disdain (in favor of wacky – and droll! – hijinks in Coen “comedies”, I suppose).
I was with you right until the end… I’ve never gotten into the American version because the first few times I watched it was exactly as you say.
Dwight Schrute is nothing if not wacky — and droll!
Dwight/Gareth is anomalous.
And really, there are only 2 Coen comedies that I find at all funny: Raising Arizona and Hudsucker Proxy — and I only find the Hud “funny” in a really abstract, formalist way. (No, I don’t find Lebowski “funny” per se.)
There are a few moments in the film that are hilarious the first time through–most notably when the Sheriff of Malibu hits him with a coffee cup, when he drops the roach in his crotch and crashes his car, the opening scene where he’s writing a .69 check at Lucky’s, and “I’m sure it’s in there somewhere–let me take another look.”
Where are mikeA and xbx? We haven’t had a good fight here for a while. (I haven’t seen enough of the british version to have a strong opinion on it.)
Oh, and Idiocracy is hilarious.
Wait. There’s a British version of mikeA and xbx? Are they less wacky — and droll?
I’m up there a bit to the right. I was actually thinking of using the word “creepy” again. I would say Idiocracy was “funny.” I like the Wilson family, although their films get worse and worse.
So Bottlerocket was the pinnacle of their career and it’s all downhill from there?
How sad.
but a good pinnacle.
I’m a fan.
My brother’s seeing a girl named Ines right now. I can’t help but chuckle.
And I don’t know why, but the name Bob Maplethorp(e) always cracked me up.
Bob Mapplethorpe, potential get-away driver: Go!
I’m with monkeyball on his Curb Your Enthusiasm assessment. Their no script method makes a lot of scenes really tedious to watch (as the actors visibly strain to think of funny things to say).
I’m in that tiny group of elite curmudgeons who didn’t even like Seinfeld, so I’ve never been tempted to watch CYE. I think I saw about 15 minutes of it once.
I’m sure I don’t qualify as curmudgeonly, but I’ve never thought highly of either show.
I love CYE. Larry David would be funny if the show was just watching him eat breakfast or something with no dialogue.
what if the way he looks annoys the piss out of you?
he’s funny looking. you should laugh instead of piss.
I agree with the latter sentence.
I don’t dislike CYE for quite the reason mk recalls — and it’s not even that I really dislike it. I think if I had HBO and watched only a half-hour every week, I’d like it fine; however, I’ve only consumed it in voracious bites via dvd, and too much at once is migraine-inducing.
This is the first time I’ve read FK in a long time, I’m reading A’s blogs more now that they’re actually winning a few games.
Idiocracy is more funny as an idea than it is in the actual execution. It’s not bad but I don’t think there’s quite enough there to sustain a full length movie.
My views on CYE and the Office have not changed at all.
I love reading old threads, I’m giving myself a pat on the back for defending Landon Powell after Keith Lol called him a bust (and for remaining silent on Robnett and Putnam).
1. I’m pretty sure I could feel safe for say, $20 billion a year.
2. I’ve always just thrown my hats in the wash and accepted the ensuing deformities, but lo, there is a better way.
3. All in all, you losing your fucking clam rake did a terrific job of ruining my day.
New euphemism: to lose one’s fucking clam rake. As in, Whenever I read a post by Trainman, I just about lose my fucking clam rake.
Hmmm. I thought it was Trainman who posted that.
FJM reunion on Deadspin today.
Do not wear your A’s gear when boarding that El Al flight
Add this to the list of obvious things that never occurred to me:
Maybe I have this wrong (I’m hardly an expert), but it seems clear that a large chunk of undergraduate course work could be moved on-line at a rather slight cost to the intellectual development of America’s youth. And whether that is true or not, if/when the accreditation barriers fall, it seems an inevitable outcome.
Damn those perfessers and their anticompetitive guilds!
you and iglew need to have coffee.
It seems to me that only becomes true if diplomas become devalued.
1. What are the benefits of taking Whatever 101 in a lecture hall versus online?
2. Assuming those advantages exist and are compelling, are they even close to being commensurate with the cost?
3. Is it better to say “commensurate with” or “commensurate to”?
1. I see absolutely none
I took a few 101 courses via an independent study/online option. I learned just as much in those as I did in my auditorium 101 classes, and I wasn’t forced into group activities. If someone’s just going to be talking at you the whole time, it might as well be a recording.
with
1. The school won’t give you a diploma unless you do.
2. trumped by 1
3. I agree with FSU
Isn’t it an online university that advertises on the radio during A’s games, using the phrase “equally as important” in its pitch about… something? I don’t know what the entire line (or the university) is, because I always have a seizure and black out when I hear the “equally as important” part.
MGL pointed me here. I was less taken by the silliness of the article than the “People who read this also read” section:
I think that if you are reading every day about a world filled with Manson-lite Massachusetts mothers, scandal-seeking singers who hate George Bush, and liberal newsmen professing ignorance about liberal groups running secret (no doubt liberal) prostitution rings, it is really not so surprising that you might also believe Barack Obama was born in Kenya and is on the verge of allowing the government to steal your Medicare.
Are prostitutes, by their very nature, liberal?
No, they’re conservative because they offer services for fees on the open market.
Pimps and sluts are liberal.
(Pimps, actually, are Objectivists.)
Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck you, Ezra Klein.
He’s really completing the transmogrification, isn’t he? This sort of half-truth cover-your-tracks parsing (not to mention his rather [to me, anyway] striking Beltwayism since joining the WaPo) is Atlantic-worthy.
I read that as fuck you, Ezra Pound. We were about to have words.
Now there was a fascist we could believe in!
srsly.
\
At least he was brief.
TWDSPS
In Russia, democratic socialists party you.
Pound arcana fail
Hey Leopold, I’m really happy for you, and I’mma let you finish, but monkeyball has some of the best Yakovisms of all time. ALL TIME!!
…….
……
New Jeunet film sounds promising
Anyone watch the Giants game last night? Zito’s curve was back to 2001/2002-era Bugs Bunny-crazy. The 3 Ks looking on Helton were hilarious.
The whole first-pitch changeup strategy was pretty great, too.
I watched the first couple innings hoping for something different than what happened.
I too watched the first couple innings.
But that reminds me: a few days ago when Vicente Padilla was pitching against SF, KrukKuip spent about 2 full innings marveling about the fact that he had been available on waivers. I guess they don’t pay much attention to what’s going on in the AL.
Yeah, I noticed that as well. I had assumed that Padilla’s douchebaggitude was common knowledge.
{insert cheap Bonds wisecrack here}
Criminy. WTF is up with TNR’s redesign? What an incredibly stupid font — makes me feel like my eyesight is failing.
It’s a conspiracy.
Who said that?
{flails wildly with cane}
to achieve?
1. The ever-changing front page photos are problematic.
2. The old site sucked worse.
3. It’s all about dynamism and collaboration and various other things. Obviously.
WE’RE ALL GONNA DYNAMISM!!!
1. emulating slate is about the worst thing to do with a website (or the worst thing to do in life generally).
portmanteau: emuslating
I think “Max Raucus” would be a good nom de punq
Isn’t it Ionic … don’t you think?
Awesome
That is a great post.
I thought the Chairman’s mark was what Frank gave Mia for talking back.
Best start of the year for Cahill. Good to see.
This DLD is awesome, by the way. That picture is delightful. My lab loves the beach too. Except that she can’t swim and her chosen activity besides tennis ball chasing is drinking sea water and then barfing it up.
Giants made me a little nervous there, but it ended in the appropriate comedy.