The Dumbing Down of Fighting Up

When Chris Matthews said, "You should always fight up" in regards to the Keith Olbermann-Bill O'Reilly feud, he was repeating a well-known tactic as old as the dinosaurs. I'm not talking about media ones. (SLAM, duh duh duh, duh duh duh, let the boys be boys!) I believe it was officially trademarked by David after slinging a stone at Goliath and the Philistine army turned more yellow than Floyd Landis's piss. Again, let's credit the Hebrews.

It's the law of the jungle, the Bronzed Rule, school yard wisdom, prison philosophy, underdog worship, and blogging's raison d'être. (Examples: here and here.) To that end, let's get back to basics, today YM declares war on James Wolcott. You might amuse us with genuinely hilarious lines like "Did you know, Charlie, that just before he left office, Woodrow Wilson was carried sideways through the White House like a log?" but that doesn't excuse the fact you're a raging leftist Anti-Semite. There, I said it. Just for kicks mostly. Sure, the nasty A-S tag gets trendily pinned at even the slightest criticism of Israel, but that's half the fun of being a Jew and getting to eat our latke.

We'd rather you just say Israel should be wiped off the map (which is at least an actual "solution") rather than dream about peaceful co-existence fantasies. You use the shield of innocent civilian casualties as much as the terrorists do; it's a lot easier to paint the Zionist Pigs with a palette of blood and vinegar that way. I know, some of your best friends are Jewish, right? Me too, I call them family. Coming from your kind, that defensive reasoning falls apart faster than my mom's Matzo balls. Anti-Semitism is this season's Scarlet Letter. Be honest with yourself, wear it with pride.

(I suggest matching it with this Dries Van Noten sequined scarf, as long as you're being unreasonable and all.)

Because Krucoff Pays by the Link; or Yes, Please, Please, Yes, Link to a New York Times Magazine Article

The New York Times reports that Harry "Dave's World" Anderson got punched in the face. Twice. One too few times.

The New Yorker reports that robots have taken over the grocery store.

Gothamist, which apparently failed its drug test, reports that it's been raining a lot in New York.

Yahoo has an Internet site.

135 Words You Could Have Said Better Yourself

Back story: "Called Voice, [Hyperion's new] imprint [. . . ] will be just one of a number of new imprints aimed at female readers[. . . .] Amanda Urban, Ms. Bennetts’s agent, used the model of women’s magazines to suggest the imprint could take off. 'Those magazines have to sell a hell of a lot more copies than book publishers do to exist, so clearly those markets exist,' Ms. Urban said." (via the Times)

I hope I'm not about to Gladwell all over on myself, but someone should tell Amanda Urban (who I realize is an agent so it's partly excusable that she blurted this out) that when it cums (read on: that will seem even more juvenile in a few seconds) to magazines, chicks are like dudes: They don't buy them for the articles either.

Something Gefilty at Jew Lagoon

I suggest sending in the IDF to secure the beach.

"No one has explicitly said, 'Let's get the Jews,' but we are looking at a whole bunch of 'coincidences' that I'd just like an explanation for," said Mr. Lester, a lawyer who works as a lifeguard on the weekends. He has been a lifeguard at Jones Beach for 39 years. "I've asked the state to discuss this, but they won't talk to me. All I want is a simple answer why the state is using their police force to investigate their own lifeguards over a CPR card."

Some Jewish Lifeguards Claim Bias at Jones Beach [NY Times]

Silence Speaks Volumes of Wikipedia Entries

The fluctuating weight of my words is best calculated in an anti-gravity chamber where the drinking of juice boxes is dramatically improved with furious somersaulting. By refusing to comment on the following subjects, I will contribute more to the conversation than most. Please grab a hold of the nearest anchor link and sink with me.

· Virgin Blogs
· Brooke Astor
· Google Office
· Computer recalls

(I fully intend to get to the bottom of this though. Tesla Avenue, sheesh.)

Touch Me I'm Dork

The nominees for the Quill Awards have been announced. These authors have worked hard for your enjoyment and now it's your turn to do something. Let the ballot stuffing begin. (Click here to see the nominees in the Young Adult / Teen category and then read on for your assignment.)

Your first instinct will be to vote for "Eldest," by Christopher Paolini, because that dragon on the cover is awesome -- but don't. I used to play hours and hours of Dungeon and Dragons in Charlie Suffradini's basement back in Connecticut, and that dragon isn't authentic. Trust me. For one, it's missing horns; and for two things, our Dungeon Master said that if you look a dragon in the eye you'll be terrified to the point of paralysis. (Cheat code: Use your +3 silver reflecting shield and fight the hell-beast backward. Hope you have at least 18 Dexterity points!).

I'm lethargic but I'm not paralyzed, so it can't be a photo of a real dragon. Someone tried to pull a fast one, but I called them out. Good luck next year, Paolini.

We're not going to run through the rest of the nominees -- they're all finer than Jessica Alba's hump (you young adult / teen readers know what I'm talking about, yo. Give it up!). So, cutting to the chase, vote "King Dork," by Frank Portman. (He should actually also be up for Debut Author of the Year, too, but Julie Powell spent her advance rigging the category to keep him out of it.)

Though Frank is a close, personal friend of YM, you're commanded by official order of YM Grand Pooba Krucoff to dash over and vote appropriately. Anyone caught voting for a book other than "King Dork" will be shunned like the deformed monster they are.

If enough people provide a screen shot of a properly cast vote, we'll pick a winner at random to receive a free copy of the book. If only one or two people play along, then we'll just sell it on eBay.

Dig the Dork!

ps. Those of us housebound readers: Bookslut shows its cards on this matter, too.

Canon Fodder

Do you see what Krucoff is making me do? Can you smell the Drudge coming down the pike? I can smell it from here and I’m enclosed in a hermetically sealed, 5th floor office space in Sacramento, where the stench of Drudge must compete with local olfactory offences such as the Sacramento River and the exhaust from Schwarzenegger’s Hummer, and I’m not talking about the car. (You’re welcome.) I am pleased to report that Drudge’s scent is doing quite well against those others, today in particular as I’m about to whip out a link so odious that it will direct users straight to the source. I predict the be-hatted one will bottle that smell and come out with a line of fragrances before the year is out. He is a wily motherfucker and not one to pass up an opportunity. He is the American Dream. The internet’s own Horatio Alger.

So yeah, ima ‘bout to drop a Drudge link. Yes, you are correct, that phrase now replaces "dropping the kids off at the pool" as our generation’s euphemism for taking a shit. It’s been a long time, but we can all breathe easy now. I’ve done it again. Christ, what a long-winded intro, right? This is what you get when you combine internet technology, Krucoff, and no editorial budget. You’ve signed up for it, now take your medicine. It’s only my second post on this new venture from Krucoff Federated Media Enterprises™ and I’ve already sunk as low as one can go. Anyway, here it is. Shit! I forgot to warn you. That link leads to a quote from Roger Ailes, CEO of Fox News. My God, I’ve just invented a new level of Dante’s Inferno. Deeper, more disturbing. I can't believe Alighieri missed it the first time around. I’m simultaneously in awe of my creative powers while fearful for humanity. I’m plumbing depths, elbow-deep into the bovine ass of online content without a rubber glove, pulling out clumps of media and slinging it onto the ground for you to inspect with a stick. I think you will find that this blog is grass-fed and free-range. Krucoff has provided us with working conditions that are as humane as possible, given the limits of server capacity. It’s exciting, isn’t it?

What I’m getting at is this line most likely written by one of Ailes’ unpaid assistants regarding the recent release of two (2) Fox News journalists from captivity:

"The entire international community is beginning to realize that journalists should never be hostages or pawns in world events."

For one, why the fuck not? What makes them so special? Hell, they’ve got better name recognition than some random soldier or local person. Also, everyone knows, even Hamas, that journalists have no souls. God made them that way, on the 9th day, right after He made the rest of us, so that the world could be populated with creatures able to withstand the moral vacuum of big-time media. In fact, I’m going to go as far to say that if there have to be hostages, and it seems that is the case, then journalists should be the default choice. Especially television journalists. They come pre-installed with a camera crew, so the picture quality of those hostage videos would be improved considerably. No more of that crappy Dogme 95 shaky camera work. We get it. It implies urgency. However, I think you've been overplaying your hand, here. The actual situation is pretty fucking urgent, so you don't need to hit us over the head with it. You're just losing your audience. Also, by using journalists, you wouldn't be putting people with souls and human feelings in harm’s way. Might I offer up Wolf Blitzer for your consideration?

Monday Morning Chicken and Eggs

· Most of the hamsters sold as pets or used in research are the descendants of 3 littermates domesticated in 1930.

· About 3.5 million of today's Ashkenazi Jews - 40 percent of the total Ashkenazi population - are descended from just four women, a genetic study indicates.

· Researchers have identified simian immunodeficiency virus (SIV) in wild apes for the first time. The virus, which at some point jumped to humans as human immunodeficiency virus (HIV), has been found in chimpanzees in Cameroon, west-central Africa.

· Aristotle claims that the origin of comedy can be traced to "those who lead off the phallic songs (phallika)." The phallic procession to a cult center, followed by a sacrifice, was a common feature of Dionysiac celebrations in the Greek countryside. These processions were characterized by obscenities and verbal abuse.

· The tradition of rendering a salute by cannon originated in the 14th century as firearms and cannons came into use. Since these early devices contained only one projectile, discharging them once rendered them ineffective.

· Another striking example of an early forerunner of modern comics is the so-called centsprent or mannekesprent. These printed sheets were made public since the 1500s, and often depicted the lives of holy men.

· Since 1928, H.B. "Harry" Reese's candy company, also located in Hershey, had been making chocolate-covered peanut butter cups.

· Although Aerosmith is known as a Boston band, none of the members are actually from the city. Three of the members, Steven Tallarico (Tyler), Joe Perry, and Tom Hamilton had originally met in Sunapee, New Hampshire in the late '60s, but had not yet formed a band together. Tyler was from Yonkers, New York, Perry from Hopedale, Massachusetts, and Hamilton from New London, New Hampshire. In 1970, the three decided to form a band and that Boston, Massachusetts would be the ideal venue.

· Government Issue - "It Begins Now"

Feignin' Abel

Here's a classic clip of the New York City media wreaking (literally) sweet revenge upon veteran hoaxer Alan Abel. From the clip's accompanying description on YouTube:

n 1972, Howard Hughes appeared at the St. Regis Hotel in NYC, wrapped in bandages, claiming that he was going to be frozen through cryogenics and return when the stock market peaked. A press conference was held and a large group of reporters were in attendance. After questioning, Hughes was hurriedly wheeled out through the lobby and his wheelchair got stuck in the revolving door. A second press conference took place several days later, during which it was revealed that media hoxer Alan Abel was actually the man underneath the bandages. In retaliation, the media decided to play their own joke on Abel.
For more information on Alan Abel and his hoaxing career, visit www.alanabel.com.

I took part in one of Abel's minor hoaxes when I was in college. For five dollars an hour, I spent a couple of lunchtimes as an accomplice to the "Robin Hood magician," a young man whose gimmick was that he would perform magic tricks for strangers on New York City streets in which he would actually give them the five dollar bill that he would find in their ear, elbow, and so on. Abel wasn't present at the magician's performances, but gave him advice.

I remember Abel as being very smart, gracious, and funny; wish I'd stayed in touch with him. You can see from this and other clips of him on YouTube that he's a genius.

How I Met Krucoff and Carney, or Why I Stopped Drinking

I should explain what I'm doing here. I like Andrew, I think he's supernice, and I think there's a photo of us pretending to make out somewhere on Flickr. ("Pretend to Make Out" was my Blue Steel for awhile. See here and here.) So when he invited me to contribute, I said yes because we're friends. At least, I think we're friends although I don't remember actually meeting Andrew. Yet there is photographic evidence to the contrary, and he seems to know who I am when I see him at parties.

Nor do I remember meeting John Carney. But according to John and several witnesses, I made out on him at a party last year. Not with him, but on him. With somebody else.

Again, I don't remember any of this. And I'm pretty sure I've never met (or slept with) any of the other contributors on this blog, but how can I be sure about anything after seven Alabama Slammers? Which is why I stopped drinking. I realized that I don't need alcohol to socialize with bloggers. I'm much happier as a cokehead anyway. Thinner, too.

Now that I've quit drinking, will I finally stop embarrassing myself in public? Never. Why do you think I was invited to post here in the first place?

The Bible Rewrite Project

Hi, this is artist Nate Hill. My introduction will go quicker if I just give you the short facts. I cut up dead animals and sew them back together in new ways and call them "new animals". I love God, but I also have a God complex. I want to try something big. I want to be like God, the greatest artist of all time. I've taken this literally (being like God), so I'm rewriting the Bible. One reason is to create my own mythology or perhaps more accurately steal God's mythology. The plan is to blog one chapter of the Bible Rewrite Project each week right here on Young Manhattanite. I'll probably post on the weekends. If you're cross is burning for the next entry you can always read ahead, but why spoil the suspense? And try not to fall asleep.

NOTE: Original Text appears in Italics. Rewrite follows in Plain Text.

The Bible: Old Testament

Genesis

The Beginning

Genesis 1

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

In the beginning, Nate created Himself. It was nice for awhile, but it became too quiet. So, He created the heavens and the earth. No one knows quite why or where or when or how. The earth was an empty waste and darkness was over the deep waters. Nate was all alone. There was nothing but an odd smell in the air. The Spirit of Nate was moving above the waters. Nate said, "There should be more. Let there be something called an idea," and there was an idea. Nate saw that the idea was good. He thought of every idea that ever was and ever will be. There was evening and there was morning, the first day.

And God said, "Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters." And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament; and it was so. And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.

Then Nate said, "Let there be an open space where I can ponder creation. I need a place to think. A place that smells nice that will divide waters from waters." Nate made the open space, and divided the waters under the open space from the waters above the open space. And it was so. Nate called it Heaven, the place where the grandest animals are sewn together. Again, let it be known forever that in Heaven, the grandest animals are sewn together. There was evening and there was morning, the second day.

And God said, "Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear"; and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called He Seas; and God saw that it was good. And God said, "Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth"; and it was so. And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind; and God saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the third day.

And Nate said, "Let the waters below the heavens be gathered into one place. Let the dry land appear." And it was so. Then Nate called the dry land Earth. He called the gathering of the waters Seas. And Nate saw that it was good. Then Nate said, "Let plants grow from the earth, plants that have seeds. Let animal parts grow from the earth, from within these seeds." And it was so. Plants and trees alike grew out of the earth with seedlings of animals parts inside. The parts of animals were growing on earth before animals roamed the ground or flew through the air. And Nate saw that it was good. There was evening and there was morning, the third day.

And God said, "Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years; and let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth"; and it was so. And God made two great lights: the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night. He made the stars also. And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth, and to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the fourth day.

Then Nate said, "Let there be big lights in this open space to divide day from night. During the day, we'll need to see. Tomorrow, I will take the animal parts that I have grown and sew together the first animals of the earth. But I must have light to see. During the night, I will create a smaller light. It could be called a 'night light.'" And it was so. Nate made those two great lights. And He saw that it was good. There was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.

And God said, "Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven." And God created great whales and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind; and God saw that it was good. And God blessed them, saying, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply on the earth." And the evening and the morning were the fifth day.

Then Nate said, "Let the waters be full of living things. I will sew them. Let birds fly above the earth in the open space of the heavens. I will take a beak from this plant and some wings from that tree and put them together." Nate sewed together the big animals that live in the sea, and every living thing that moves through the waters by its kind, and every winged bird after its kind. He even made the maggots from hardened tree sap. "You will never know you are maggots," He said. And Nate saw that it was good. Nate wanted good to come to all, saying, "Give birth to many. Grow in number. Fill the waters in the seas. Let birds grow in number on the earth." There was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.

And God said, "Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind: cattle and creeping thing and beast of the earth after his kind"; and it was so. And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind; and God saw that it was good.

Then Nate said, "Let the earth bring into being living things after their kind: Cattle and things that move upon the ground, and wild animals of the earth after their kind." And it was so. Then Nate made the wild animals of the earth after their kind, and the cattle after their kind, and every thing that moves upon the ground after its kind. And Nate saw that it was good.

And God said, "Let Us make man in Our image, after Our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth." So God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them. And God blessed them, and God said unto them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth." And God said, "Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat. And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth wherein there is life, I have given every green herb for meat"; and it was so. And God saw every thing that He had made, and behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.

Then Nate said, "The animals that I have sewn together are blank canvases. In other words, they are prototypes. Let Us make man like Us and let him create his own animals with these canvases that I have given him. He shall have the fish of the sea, the birds of the air and the cattle. And over all the earth, every thing that moves on the ground, man shall use for his creation of new animals." And Nate made man in His own likeness. In the likeness of Nate He made him. He made both male and female. And Nate wanted good to come to them, saying, "Give birth to many. Grow in number. Fill the earth and rule over it. Rule over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the sky, and over every living thing that moves on the earth." Then Nate said, "See, I have given you every plant that grows animal parts that is on the earth, and every tree that gives limbed fruit. They will be parts and pieces for you to change the animals that I have given you. Sew them together as you see fit. In doing this, you honor me. This is the holiest activity." And it was so. Nate saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good. There was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.

Plato's Retard

I said there would be more contributors to the YM Bomp-fest (invite only, sorry) and I'm pleased to announce, in addition to Sac and Gage, we have verbal committments from: Bible Re-Write/Taxidermy Artist Nate Hill, former NY Press editor Jeff Koyen, Washingtonienne (and mother of all whores) Jessica Cutler, Dealbreaker's John Carney, rock-n-roll best-selling author Dr. Frank, Catholic blogger (and mother of all reformed whores) Dawn Eden, and the Imaginary Socialite of New York's very real fashion world.

This is just the beginning of the party you spent hours looking for but couldn't find and had to settle for. Stick around, take a seat next to Mohammed, Jugdish, Sidney and Clayton.

Constipation Occupation: Read It and Squeak

History of Pain: Before oxycodone and fentanyl, passing a kidney stone could make a man tear a urinal from the wall. Thanks to pharmaceuticals it now just feels like passing a wet fart through your wee-wee.

The analgesic power of willow bark was known 2,000 years before scientists named its active ingredient acetylsalicylic acid - or aspirin to you and me. As Dormandy says, it is now "the most commercially successful proprietary drug ever". Indeed, the first vending machine installed in the House of Commons "dispensed containers with four of the magic pills".

Chicks Dig Ugly: Freakonimblog post stirs up confusion: Perhaps good-looking couples have good-looking girl-kids because the good-looking woman's womb is hostile to dude-babies, who may or may not be good-looking. Great slithering ouroboros, Batman!

The study apparently looked at both parents’ attractiveness, which was rated separately by some observer on a scale of 1-5. I can certainly see why if certain traits would be more advantageous for one sex of offspring than the other then it would (turn out to have been?) advantageous to produce more offspring of the desireable sex. But how is the mother going to contribute to this effect, hypothetically? She ain’t got nothing to offer but X chromosomes, attractive or not.

Coconut bras for Amazon women? No. [sigh] Just sound mirrors to eavesdrop on Nazis.

The Shafer-Dylan Clearing The Air Act

Jack Shafer, you get a big HY!™ for most correctly pointing out that the Forbes "Fish don't fry in the kitchen, Beans don't burn on the grill" Controversy has been blown so out of proportion that Carly Fiorina needs reconstructive knee surgery. The focus of the piece was gender-neutral and if anyone can't see that past the hand-cranked headline, well then, I've got a bridge with Janet Reno's dick on it I'd like to sell you.

When the gun smoke clears and magnifying mirrors returned to their purses, it will be obvious what really ruins marriages: a wedding, family, friends, co-habitation, reproduction, and the general legality of it all. The article wasn't misogynistic as much as it was classist. It seemed to say more than anything that marriage is for poor people because they have nothing to lose. Which is true, and funny, when you think about it. No? Think harder.

You know who else solders H to the Y? Mr. Bob "My Morning Facial Hair Sounds Better Than Your Band" Dylan, that's who. When he flicked aside the last 20 years of music with less concern than a Motley Crue groupie after her turn in the shower, it wasn't a case of invective marketing designed to promote his latest album ("as if!" said the tambourinist) but rather the Echo of Truth barreling down a mountain, picking off tree dwellers and soil-robbers by the thousands.

But listen closely, an exception emerges when the Echo comes to rest at the base of 1992 in Annapolis, MD. Ladies and Gentrifiers, please roll up your sleeves and throw rocks at beat cops, it's The Shit!

Singe, er, Ultimate-Mellow, Man: Buford vs. Brockmeier

"Heat," by Bill Buford
Data dump:
Manly editor godhead quits his lucrative job to "kitchen bitch" it in one of New York City's precious 3-star (that's ***) restaurants and then travels to Italy to learn how to get a dead pig into his NYC apartment so he can hack it up.
Petty jealousy:
Witty, frothy, brisk read that's well worth it, baring the 15-page-long endurance tests on how everything I cook is garbage because I stir clockwise instead of counterclockwise; and that the meaning of life can be found in polentta, was it?
What I meant to say:
- The New York Times
- Guardian Books
- London Review of Books


"The Brief History of the Dead," by Kevin Brockmeier
Where it's at:
Uber-talented short-story writer pens a multi-perspective tale about memory and what happens to you when you die; indicts Coke along the way and mysteriously dodges a lawsuit.
Ill-information:
Not sure what the moral of this lonely ghost story is but Catholics will dig the purgatory (which resembles coffee hour at St. John's but a bit more Capra-esque), and the scenes taking place in Antarctica are surprisingly believable (if you've seen "March of the Penguins").
Yeah, what they said:
- Salon
- January Magazine
- Slate

Who invited the killjew to the party?

List Damagement, with Dimestore Drivel

The winner gets to do my taxes.

Can birds count? Are children simple arithmetic machines? Can Clyde balance my checkbook?

Birding wisdom holds that to watch most birds without disturbing them, it is best to hide behind a blind. If the bird sees you enter, however, you're not much better off because it is now aware of the blind. One way around this problem is for two people to enter the blind together. Some time later, one person leaves and the bird, apparently assuming the coast is clear, goes back to business as usual. Why?

----
The nerds will debate Jonathan Ames' fiction appearance in the free, listings-based L Magazine (you know, the one the homeless people try to sell you when you're waiting on the subway platform) but those in the know will nod sagely through such pablum and ask, "Honey, did you see Ben Greenman's ornate prose therein as well? So much bestest."

He’s not an actual duck. A duck can’t sing, let alone make the most of things. The Duck is a man, a rather large man at that, and the little ducks are his children. They are not his actual children. They are students who are enrolled in his music school, the Gifford E. Tannhauser Academy of Vocal Performance. He is Gifford E. Tannhauser.

----
The Wilson Quarterly shows that statisticians can't count. Clyde, get your hand off your balls and run some numbers, would ya?

Decades ago, many population statistics seemed to point toward global calamity. Today, the world’s population is indeed much larger—but it is also much healthier, better educated, and richer. Therein lies a lesson in the use and misuse of numbers.

Reviews of Movies I Have No Intention of Seeing: Factotum

I have no intention of seeing the movie Factotum, starring the increasingly cro-magnon Matt Dillon as Henry Chinaski, the alter-ego of Charles Bukowski, the world’s most overrated alcoholic. Oh sure I gobbled up Barfly when it came out in 1987, but I have an excuse. Two, actually. One is Frank Stallone. Two, is I was 19. Bukowski is the shit when you’re 19 and just beginning to pretend to drink heavily. So what’s Matt Dillon’s excuse? Fucking pork-pie hats is what. Same goes for Tom Waits, although somewhat less so on account that he can write a good song. But that Skid Row persona? Fucking Christ, knock that shit off already. I once bumped into him, quite literally, coming out of the bathroom at the Fillmore in San Francisco. After flying into a violent rage because I don’t like to be touched, I took a look at him and he was wearing the same fucking pork-pie hat he wears on stage. That sent me immediately into another violent rage. People who walk around in costume all the time need to get body-checked on a regular basis. I’ll accept the fact that the guy likes old-timey suits, but he needs to change it up a bit. I’ve done my time in horrible vintage stores where they rape grandma’s estate sale for dead people’s clothing, then jack up the price to sell back to her hipster grandchildren. (Short hipster grandchildren, God apparently didn’t make people over 5’4” until the early 70s, because I can’t wear anything in vintage stores on account of my technically perfect height, and also because I have some fashion sense.) I’ve seen the dizzying array of choices one has to look like a WPA worker. It’s out there, Tom. I want to see a little variety next time you set me off into a violent rage.

Dillon, though, that guy needs to hang it up. For one thing, he looks like fucking Frankenstein’s monster, only Herr Doktor’s creation had a bit more emotional range. Did you catch that? I just threw that "emotional range" line in there because I’m ostensibly writing about movies. I’m pretty sure the union requires it. Read "union" as "Krucoff." That guy requires such things, and so much more. Thing is, he gets away with it because he’ll go the extra mile for you. For instance, right now he’s over at Chris Gage’s place of work massaging his prostate. His own prostate, I mean. He’s like that, he’ll take a cab across town (I’m guessing, I have no idea where any of these people spend their days) just to massage his own prostate in front of you. He says it’s a motivational technique. I say he just wants to massage his own prostate in front of people. That’s cool, though. I do, too. It’s relaxing. In fact, that's what this blog is about. Massaging prostates. This is fantastic. Can you feel it?

YM Goes Stag

Give me a diablo sandwich, a Dr. Pepper, and make it quick. I'm in a god-damn hurry.

Young Manhattanite enters over-charted territory today but it does so blindfolded, with one arm tied behind its back, and in no condition to make an early morning TV appearance. The doors of our windowless war room have been busted opened by twin battering rams, Chris Gage and Sac (El Kabong) who will be regular contributors here. Other prominent keyboard jockeys will be added soon. Sound exciting? It's like a celebrity sex tape, peace treaty, crime legislation decriminalizing marijuana, and dreaming about flying all in one.

Indexed For Your Pleasure

Above image is from Indexed - a concept like Gaping Void, without the words "fucking" or "blogging" [via Fimoculous]

My one-time only shot at this:

"You're gonna eat lightnin' and you're gonna crap thunder!"

Joltin' Jeff Jarvis vs. Mark "The Cuban Missive Crisis"

Like the man said, get some popcorn.

I score the first round 10-9 to Jarvis, but he appears to be softening his blows now.

Tooting Your Own Shofar

From Jew 2.0:

Why blogs?
Jewish organizations have slowly begun to adopt weblogs as a means of furthering communication with their constituents in a more informal and timely fashion than possible with perennial marketing materials like newsletters, program catalogs and e-mail blasts.

Blogs are elective and non-intrusive: No one wants to get more than one e-mail a month from their local synagogue or JCC. Abusing your e-mail list to bombard your constituents with program information can often lead to a flurry of subscription cancellations. With a blog, your constituents can check in when they want, which gives them a feeling of empowerment in their relationship to your organization. In that, a blog can bring visitors back to your website every week, if not every day, without them feeling forced to do so.

Blogs provide an excellent delivery vehicle for "supporting material" which can garner further interest in your upcoming events. For example, you can’t put an audio or video clip in your printed program catalog (and sometimes it’s even unwiedly to do so in your online program catalog). However, you can easily put such content on your blog.

Blogs allow you to do follow-up on your events. By letting constituents know how badly they "missed out," they’ll be more inclined not to miss out in the future. People also like seeing things portrayed in such a way that makes them excited to say, "I was there!"

For advocacy organizations, like Honest Reporting (Backspin) or the National Jewish Democratic Council (NJDC Blog), the draw is more obvious: Blogs allow fast, widely-distributed response to issues as they unfold. In that, your organization can issue an informal, preliminary response to an issue while "official" statements slowly work their way through bureaucratic channels.

The 92nd Street Y (92Y Blog) provides the best example of the afformentioned applications of blogging.

Stick that in your tefillin and smoke it.

Hannity Gets His Gun

Buried somewhere in the comments of a previous post, Rob Sterling reveals:

Hey all, just got my Virginia concealed-carry permit!

Navel Hazing

I need someone to mash and monetize these two concepts—here and here—then cut me a check.

Calacanis the Menace (or "Mr. Wilson, someone took a crap in your backyard. Call customer service.")

I wanted to write a 1,000-word essay for this graphic because he's been on such a roll lately. I had it all mapped out in my head, from a parking lot in Bay Ridge to the Third Street Promenade, but I got stuck in a stubborn holding pattern. Over Dulles, I think.

Make no mistake though, I am unapologetically pro-Calacanis. 100 Percentamente. His word is near-gospel (do you think the initials JC are mere coincidence?) and reading his blog provides daily affirmation that if you want to walk on water, you can't be afraid to let go of the crutches and avoid higher ground.

Shamen or sham? Probably both.

And Caviar Dreams

"Popping the cork" on 151st Street and Union Ave, Bronx

In his latest letter from the editor, Vanity Fair's Graydon Carter pulls a long drag and blows hard:

As the nation wilted during a prolonged midsummer heat wave, evening-news weather maps showed that the red states really are red. Many of the heat-wave segments I watched featured clips of city kids cooling off under the spray from opened fire hydrants. I don't know where they find them—in almost 30 years of living in New York City, I have yet to see one of these quaint urban scenes with my own eyes.

You don't say, Graydo? It's difficult to fathom the shortage of sidewalk slip-n-slides and watersport fiddle-faddle outside of the Dakota or on Bank Street, but I guess when you drive around town in a champagne-colored Lincoln Navigator SUV, it's hard to notice any bubbly on the outside.

Shucking Oysters At The Moon

If blog comments had their own awards, this would get my nod for lifetime achievement.

Davey Crockett:

Rocketboom got totally punked. Everyone knows that dodgeball doesn't even really exist. It's a bunch of lower east side hipster kids pretending they invented this service and running around pretending to be techies. Funniest prank since flashmobs.
August 10, 2006 06:53 PM

I would guess it's Sac but I don't think he's ever heard of Rocketboom. Or Dodgeball.

Around the Friendosphere

· Dodgeball is profiled on Rocketboom. Roommate Becca gets caught with a pretzel log in her mouth. More background on Teendrama. Bonus pic of Becca, Dens, Randy from last year in last week's NYPress Hamptons article.


· Mike Tully is listed on Filmmaker Magazine's 25 NEW FACES OF INDEPENDENT FILM 2006. Check out pics and teaser video from his July trip to Israel with the Silver Jews.


· Grellan gives weekend tours in wall-to-wall khaki. Apparently that's "Team Adorable" above.

· Chris S. in SF uncovers the sleeper battle of the summer raging through the Mid-West/Atlantic: the fight over Naptown between Annapolis and Indianapolis. Not pictured.

Never Meta Pointless Argument I Didn't Want To Join

I posted a comment on The Daily Transom yesterday but it wasn't approved. That's fine, I'm sure they have their reasons — none of them good, most likely anti-Semitic — but it's their panic button to tap on and ultimately they control the conversation. (Ha, I said "conversation.") So here it is, slightly revised, a morning dose of fiber that should go right through you.

I don't know what the hell Spiers is talking about. I'm fairly certain Jesse is talking about the Gawker Stalker Map and not her original "ironic" vision of the feature. Whatever that was, it's a total stretch to say, "The irony was subtle, but I'm fairly certain it was obvious." (Ahh, the soft gurgling sounds of someone smoking the Spy pipe again.)

Actually, it was anything but obvious. [Paging Felix Salmon!] Posting celebrity sightings, unless they are fake and funny, is not (that's court-ordered emphasis) an ironic statement on a celeb-obsessed culture no matter how you twist Rosie O'Donnell's dining preferences. Just as eating dead babies isn't an ironic statement on cannibalism, it's part of the problem you supposedly scorn. That's right, I said problem. (Divine emphasis, perhaps?) Celebrities hiding among civilians to produce a "disproportionately fat human shield" is no worse an act of terrorism than what Hezbollah does.

Anyway, for her to say this was a sign that, "[Jesse] wasn't a good fit for Gawker" is laughable, especially since she of all people knows quite intimately the fickle whims which dictate most of Mr. Denton's decisions. I'd like to see where her writing sensibility works well because frankly I don't see much of it on Dealbreaker or anywhere else lately.

Disclosure: Wait for it.

FOB: Moustaches and Deck Shoes

Young Turkmenistanite

My Solid Gold Pick of the Week: Golem Release Party on Boat, Thursday

See Also:
Song + Short Interview video with Golem fiddler and accordionist
"Warsaw Is Khelm" featuring Amanda Palmer of The Dresden Dolls
Golem: Wikipedia

Defend PSM (Attack PMS!)

Like many, after reading Gawker's Diary of a Park Slope Mommy I found it difficult to discern as a joke or not. (I also had a peculiar urge for lesbian milk. Don't ask, I read about it on Amazon.) The problem here is cast with the double-edged sword of dental damocles. As intended humor, it was the worst piece of shit I've ever read. (Emphasis is yours.) If it was meant to be serious or at least moderately sincere, it was also the worst piece of shit I've ever read. (That time, emphasis all mine.)

I wear my Gawker heart on a sleeve of translucent beer cups, so even when I puke on her perturbations, I can't help but also offer a wet rag and Febreze to freshen up. It wasn't long before I smelled the sweaty pits of a proposed Gawker t-shirt to honor the hopeful longevity of the new feature. Radosh/Greg, this one's for you.



Credit: YM/KDI/DB

The New Phone Book's Here! The New Phone Book's Here!!

That's right, Navin R. Johnson. The 92nd Street Y fall catalog is now online and here are a few of my quick picks:

Russian Sundays
Will Leitch and other sports bloggers
Absurdistan: A Conversation with Gary Shteyngart
Kevin Clash: My Life as Elmo
The Wire's David Simon
Sketches of Frank Gehry with Sydney Pollack Q&A
Mah Jongg for Beginners - East or West Side

If The Gelilah Doesn't Fit, You Must Acquit

Viral Anatomy of The Shivah by Dave Gilbert

Jewish Week --> Canonist --> 92Y Blog --> Boing Boing

Never mind pageviews, he told me the game was downloaded 2,000 times in one day.