More Stupid Stupidness from the Stupid.

When I returned to college at the age of 28, I went with the bright-eyed naiveté usually reserved from newly matriculated 18 year-olds.

I was a political junkie and satisfied half of my political science major six years earlier, so it seemed wise to polish that off, but I was not prepared for how the political debate among the young'uns had changed from 1992 to 1999.

There was always a glut of dopes reciting Zinn without context, the occasional moron saying the latest currency fluctuation signaled the end of capitalism and the group of dippy sorority girls attempting to exercise some newly-found spine and belching out rambling incoherence. .

But in 1999, it changed.

And it changed to something akin to this:



And discussions usually devolved into fatuousness like this:



Now this is nothing new but I loved politics. It was like grown-up sports but it mattered. But something happened in the mid 90s; something that made willful ignorance an acceptable life course, something that's even more disturbing when it happens to 20 somethings.

It wasn't everybody, but the numbers were sufficient enough to drive any serious discussion about anything into a spiral of digressive stupidness. As with anything in life, even for the most serious of serious ventures, it has to have a component of fun. For me, it just didn't anymore.

I could blame the Republicans for being the evil fucks that they are. I could blame the Democrats for continuing to do their best rendition of Italian politics circa 1950. But mostly I blame the big, fat, stinkin' Belgians.

BTW, Sherri Shepherd plays Tracy Morgan's wife on 30 Rock, easily the funniest comedy on TV right now, even if the competition is a little weak, though it's superlatively funny. But I digress.

January 6, 2008 is my New Year.

In an age where it's impossible to truly know if the guy sitting next to you is a person of integrity or a unbelievable douchebag, it's refreshing to know that, for some, there are still a few benchmarks.

We create our own, usually closely tied to our own predilections, quirks or spitting hatreds, but the instant recognition of something in someone, however small, swings the pendulum almost immediately. A certain clarity emerges, the questions fade away and the path of future interaction is settled. You now know where this person stands in your own small little world.

For me, it's the answer to the question "Do you like The Wire?"

Created by David Simon, a police reporter for the Baltimore Sun covering the crime beat for 12 years, the show chronicles the decay and deprivation brought on by drugs and the war on drugs from nearly every angle relating to the city of Baltimore.

It is taut. It is deep. It is nuanced. It is paced, powerful and as meta as it get.

There is no lead character. No stand-alone episodes. No pandering to a comfort zone.

It does not believe the viewer is stupid/slow/inattentive. In fact, it expects the viewer to pay the fuck attention. Everything's critical. It challenges you in a way the discerning mind has been screaming for all this time. Never do you feel a false note and never will you be able to put it in a box. In short, if you complain about the inanity of television and haven't watched The Wire, you are no longer part of the discussion. Go now, please.

Here's a snapshot of a famous scene (do not play in office):



The fifth and last season wrapped recently in Baltimore. The New Yorker wrote a great piece that sums up the show and David Simon quite nicely. It's a great read and makes you admire the hell out of the show and Simon in particular. Read this interview (Part I & Part II) as well for further insight into his motivations behind the writing.

I've bellowed from the highest mountaintops for people to watch this show. Of the few that took the advice, the accounts were almost identical in nature. They watched the first episode and instantly set aside the next month to watch the next 40 episodes, handing over whole days to the viewing of the show. It's exactly what happened to me.

It's simply the best show ever put on television and if asked what my favorite movie is, I qualify it by saying it still comes after The Wire.

On January 6, 2008, the fifth and final season begins on HBO, plenty of time to catch up if interested. Netflix and Blockbuster.com have the first three seasons available with the fourth season being released on December 4. If you are supremely interested, DeepDiscount.com recently reduced the first three seasons, bundled together, to a silly-low $77 (update: they caught their error and now sells for $140).

It will be the best time and/or money you ever spent.

Because it's funny!

I've lost much of my spitting hatred for Notre Dame over the years. It just isn't much fun to hate on something so mediocre, but this is worth it.

"BC's got better Christians!!!"

And Then There's the Senior Circuit.

In the race for the 'Biggest Boob in TV sports broadcasting' trophy, Tim McCarver gets the nod over Big Joe. His lack of basic knowledge of how to pronounce players' names is legendary. His stubborn refusal to even acknowledge a better system of baseball statistics is asinine.

To wit: "I only care about on-base percentage if you can run. If you can't run, I could care less about on-base percentage."

Um, what?

Or saying silliness like this: "I think if Norman Rockwell were alive the guy that he would paint more than anyone else would be David Eckstein."

But, in my world, it's his continued belief that the NL is a better league than the AL that makes him the biggest terdball in this or any other universe. When pressed, he substitutes 'better' with 'exciting'. What a douche.

With that, here's the right and proper answers to the question, "Who are the best players in a terribly average league."


NATIONAL LEAGUE


Most Valuable Player: Matt Holliday, LF, Colorado Rockies

The Rockies won 14 of their last 15 (including last night) to win the Wild Card. Holliday, during that stretch, hit .442 with 5hr and 17rbi. His .340 AVG. was tops in the NL. His 137rbi was tops as well. His SLG and OPS were second to Prince Fielder by a few hundredths of a point in both categories. In short, the Rockies are a .500 team without him.

Runner-ups:

Jimmy Rollins: A fairly close second, Rollins played in every game this year, no small feat at the hardest position to play in baseball. He hit .296/.344/.531-30-94-41, numbers that were significant improvements over last year. He has become a star. But he hit a very ordinary .272 with RISP and .255 Late & Close. Holliday hit .330 with RISP and .294 L&C. Take away 25 stolen bases (a very overrated stat) and Ryan Braun has better overall numbers. Close but not really.

Jake Peavy: Meh.

Ryan Howard: .268/.392/.584-47-136-1. And he missed almost a month. Hit 47hr but struck out 200 times, a Major League record. Hit 47hr and still managed to have an OPS under 1.000. A bit one-dimensional.

Prince Fielder: .288/.395/.618-50-119-2. Great year. Not better than Holliday or Rollins.

Trivia Question: Who led the NL in OPS? Highlight ---> Chipper Jones (1.029)


Cy Young Award Winner: Jake Peavy, RHP, San Diego Padres

19-6, 2.54ERA, 1.06WHIP, 240K in 223 innings. First in wins, ERA, WHIP, SO. ERA was a half run better than Brandon Webb. Consistent throughout the season, going 9-3 (2.19ERA) in the first half and followed it by going 10-3 (2.57ERA). Had an ERA of 2.10 on September 1. Not a tough one.

Runner-ups:

Brandon Webb: 18-10, 3.01ERA, 1.19WHIP, 194K in 236 innings. Had what will most likely be a typical Webb season and is really a John Lackey clone in more ways than one. Had a 42 inning scoreless in July and August, corresponding with Arizona's resurgence. Just 8-6 at the break, but was 8-2 in the last two months of the season. Threw four complete games including three shutouts. That's good.

Cole Hamels: 15-5, 3.39ERA, 1.12 WHIP, 177K in 183 innings. Long-shot, but he really came into his own. Legitimate ace at just 23.


Rookie of the Year: Ryan Braun, 3b, Milwaukee Brewers

The most heated and stupid argument currently in rotation. He hit .324/.370/.634-34-97-15. He did all this in 451 at-bats and played his first game of the year on May 25!!!! If he qualified, his BA would have been fifth in the NL, his SLG would have been the best by a fairly large margin. He finished tied for 5th in home runs...in 451 ab!!! Oh, and had 60RBI with runners on...in only 122 abs!!! Okay, no más punta del exclamation. His fielding is atrocious but who cares?!

Runner-up:

Troy Tulowitzki: .291/.359/.479-24-99-7. He may be the next great shortstop. He is that good. Aside from his overall numbers, he went .295-15-60 after the break. Silly baseball minds (Mr. Boers) want to give him the award for the world's great human because of his fielding. He handled the most chances in the league and committed only seven errors, helping to boost his WARP3 to an astounding 10.3. For a shortstop, especially a rookie, that is unheard of and should be heavily considered. But it does not make him a better rookie than Braun, who had more extra base hits in nearly 200 fewer plate appearances than Tulowitzki. When the pitching and nearly every other player in the lineup laid an egg for Milwaukee during the middle of the season, Braun and Fielder single-handedly kept them in it.


Comeback Player of the Year: Dmitri Young, 1b, Washington Nationals

Playing on a team that everyone predicted would be historically bad, Young was one of the reasons they weren't. In fact, they showed signs of being a fairly decent team with eight teams having a worse record than the Nats (including the White Sox). Going .320/.378/.491-13-74 overall, Young hit .397 in May, .377 in June and .373 in August. If he didn't hit .159 in September and just hit his average, Young would have finished second to Holliday. Not bad for someone that everybody wrote off as done.

Runner-ups:

Aaron Rowand: Threatening to fade into obscurity, Rowand had a year nearly identical to his 2004 year. He hit .309/.374/.515-27-89-6 and, as White Sox fans know, was inexplicably consistent throughout the year, never hitting below .264 (August) and hit as high as .378 (April). It WAS a contract year, but he had the kind of year that gets you 5/$50 mil.

Derrek Lee: I hardly think anyone should be considered for 'comeback POY' if he was injured but I'd give Lee consideration based solely on the fact it was a major wrist injury to his lead hand. He hit .317/.400/.513-22-82-6 and seemed to find his home run stroke again later in the year (16 hrs after the break). He also hit .365-7-14 in September, a time when the Cubs made their (f'-in') run.


Manager of the Year: Manny Acta, Washington Nationals

This one's not really close. This team on paper should have lost 110 games. And their best pitcher (by far! - Patterson) barely pitched. Mostly, they held serve, going 40-41 at home. The bullpen had the ninth-best ERA in the majors and were 27-24 in one-run games. How a team that was outscored by more than 100 runs won 73 games is beyond me but Manny Acta is the reason.

Runner-ups:

Charlie Manuel: The Phillies started 4-11, at one point, he wanted to beat up a sports talk show host and they were .500 at the break, but they completed the most remarkable comeback with 15 days left in the season in the history of baseball. Manuel should be given some credit for that, even if it's mostly for staying out of the way.


Coming Soon: Team-by-team reflections and a look back on preseason predictions.

Thanks for reading.

Individual AL Awards. And this is gospel.

Idiots abound on these internets (I'm looking squarely at you, Mr. Morgan). And it is no more acute than in the world of internet sports writing. Expect that idiocy to be amped up in the coming days and weeks as the creepy-crawlies come out of the woodwork to make their picks for individual MLB awards. Oh, the contrarianism! So as a preëmptive strike, I shall give mine. If you disagree, you are wrong. Crawl into a corner, wish for death and hope you come back as a smarter person. HA!


AMERICAN LEAGUE


Most Valuable Player: Alex Rodriguez, 3b, New York Yankees

The most obvious pick and cannot be argued. Don't try. It only makes you look stupid. He hit .314/.422/.645-54-156-24 this year. And for you people out there that continue to refer to A-Rod as a choker, his September numbers, in the thick of a very tight wild-card race until the last week, were .362/.470/.723-10-31-4. He was ridiculously good and put up historic numbers without any suspicion of being juicy. He was the shit. And I don't even like him.

Runner-ups:

Magglio Ordoñez: .363/.434/.595-28-139-4. Average 40 points higher than next best season.

Carlos Peña: .282/.411/.627-46-121-1. Silly good OBP with that average. Only 29.


Cy Young Award Winner: C.C. Sabathia, LHP, Cleveland Indians

I'm not falling prey to the arbitrary 20 win plateau as an argument. As the Indians pulled away from the Tigers in the last month and a half of the season, Sabathia went 6-1 with a 2.49 ERA, allowing only three home runs in 80 innings and beat Johan Santana twice. Finished 19-7, 3.21 ERA, 1.14 WHIP, 209 K and went 2-1 with a 1.17 ERA against this year's playoff teams. The Indians scored three runs or less in ten of his starts.

Runner-ups:

Josh Beckett: 20-7, 3.27 ERA, 1.14 WHIP, 194 K. Red Sox went from very good to dominant with him. Very close second, but had 1.5 more runs of support to work with than Sabathia. The Red Sox scored seven runs or more in 12 of his starts.

John Lackey: 19-9, 3.01 ERA, 1.21 WHIP, 179 K. Very good year, but numbers inflated by three late-season wins when the games meant nothing to the team. The Angels scored three runs or less in a whopping 13 of his 33 starts, though.


Rookie of the Year: Brian Bannister, RHP, Kansas City Royals

He went 12-9 on a team that went 69-93. Coupled with a 3.78 ERA and 1.21 WHIP, he wins it hands-down over Pedroia/Matsuzaka. It could have been better. On September 2, he was 12-7 with a 3.16 ERA that would have been fourth best in the AL this year.

Runner-ups:

Dustin Pedroia: .317/.380/.442-8-50-7. Great average for a rookie. Very durable. Solidied a position that was a HUGE question mark for Boston coming into the season.

Daisuke Matsuzaka: 15-12, 4.40 ERA, 1.32 WHIP. Yo-yo type year. On pace to win 20 early on and then blew up.


Comeback Player of the Year: Carlos Peña, 1b, Tampa Bay Devil Rays

After 33 at-bats with the Red Sox last year, Peña finally did what he's been telling everyone within shouting distance he could do. After a slow start, he had an OPS over 1.000 in four of the last five months, walked 103 times on the year and hit 13 hrs in September with a .484 OBP. This one wasn't even close.

Runner-ups:

Chone Figgins: .330/.393/.432-3-58-41. Was hitting .347 as late as September 22 before going 0-18. Broke hand in Spring Training, came back to go 12 for his first 90 (.133) and then hit .461 in June, .351 in July and .342 in August.

Javier Vazquez: The 'comeback' moniker is so arbitrary, but if it means the biggest disparity between consecutive years, Vazquez should be mentioned. Finished 15-8 (on a team that finished 72-90) with a 3.74 ERA, a 1.14 WHIP and 213 k in 216 innings. And the White Sox scored one run or less in seven of his starts. He returned to the form that made teams salivate over him four years ago in Montreal.


Manager of the Year: Mike Scioscia, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim

He took a team with absolutely no power and got 94 wins out of them. Finishing 27th in the MLB in home runs but 6th in runs, no other manager got more from less, played four rookies (basically) in the starting lineup and dealt with more strange injuries in key positions than any Angels team in recent memory.

Runner-up:

Joe Torre: Yes, I said it. This team was in shambles as late as the end of May. And that pitching was brutal. Something was settled down and someone figured out how to manage the egos.


The terribly average National League tomorrow. NL ROY is the flashpoint for stupidity.

Thanks for reading.

Well...The Fuckers Did It.

It took three seconds.

Trevor Hoffman's cutter dropping low and in to Rickie Weeks resulted in sorry flail of a swing and a third strike, setting off celebrations in Chicago and Cincinnati.

And in my neighborhood.

Within three seconds, I heard what sounded like four gunshots, at least twenty 'WOOOOO's and a bevy of helicopters took to the sky.

Within five minutes, the sirens started. 'Whoop-whoop's from prowlers howled while flying through stop signs on the way to Wrigleyville or wherever. The long and persistent wails of ambulances - screaming in the distance - followed and continued unabated for a half hour.

Within three seconds of the Padres' win, the local TV coverage began. I must confess, this was the part of the night I anticipated the most. Always one to take enormous pleasure in the haphazard nature of live, on-the-fly local news events, they didn't disappoint (Last year's New Year's Eve on ABC7 was a classic). NBC5 went immediately to the Cubby Bear where a reporter asked random women if they ever gave up on the Cubs. One response, with a sort of Proust-like bon mot, said, "WOOOO Nay, the Cubs are the BESTWOOOOOO!!!!!! ALL THE WAY, BABYWOOOOO!!!!"

The intrepid reporter moved on to a man next to the girl and, before a question could be asked, the guy pointed to the reporter and avered, "This guy's gay." And then said it again and again and again. Oh, and after a couple of minutes, jumped in front of the camera, said it again.

As expected, Clark and Addison turned into a zoo, most probably prompted by every TV station showing an empty corner on every TV in every bar within a ten block radius. It took longer than expected but it happened. The drunken hordes descended on that shithole of a stadium, bellowing WOOOOOOs all the way. Most didn't really do anything, except scream WOOOO!!! and jump up and down. They're Cub fans. It's what they do.

Back in 2003, it was a nearly identical scene, but something felt a bit more forced this time. Something felt off. Maybe it was the unfortunate timing of the clinch, happening at 10:10 pm on a Friday with all the late-night talk shows waiting to air. Maybe it was overshadowed by the historic collapse taking place at the same time in New York with the Mets losing to the Marlins, falling a game back in the East.

Or maybe it was the fact that the Cubs won one of the worst divisions in the last twenty years (though the title would go to the 1994 AL West, thank the strike for putting that horse out of its misery).

Here's a little ditty for ya:

CENTRAL	W	L	PCT	GB	EAST	CENT	WEST	INTR	RHP	LHP
x-Chicago Cubs	84	76	.525	-	15-21	44-33	17-18	8-4	65-52	19-24
Milwaukee	81	79	.506	3	16-17	43-36	14-19	8-7	53-56	28-23
St. Louis	76	84	.475	8	14-21	41-37	15-17	6-9	48-55	28-29
Cincinnati	71	89	.444	13	15-19	35-42	14-17	7-11	48-54	23-35
Houston	71	89	.444	13	11-18	35-44	16-18	9-9	50-66	21-23
Pittsburgh	68	92	.425	16	13-18	36-42	14-22	5-10	45-67	23-25

Check out every team's record outside of the division against other NL teams - NOT ONE WINNING RECORD!

It's cute they won the division. I don't hate the Cubs anymore. In fact, I wanted them to win. It's hard not to root for this team. Good for them. But that pitching with El Loco out front only begs for disappointment. And who's the third pitcher? Hill?

World Series prediction: Red Sox vs. Phillies. Phillies in seven.

More in-depth predictions and a reflection on pre-season predictions to come.

The Big Ten Network just made millions of dollars with one blocked kick.

So the Michigan loss to Appalachian State is now old news.

After having to suffer through a deep chasm full of stupid these last six days with everyone attempting to one-up each other on their version of the biggest upset in the history of the world (I still say Thermoplyae), one thing is certain.

The Big Ten Network is laughing all the way to the bank.

It's no coincidence that Dish Network caved to BTN's demands less than a week after the 'historic' defeat. And in less than a week, Dish Network saw they were at a distinct competitive disadvantage w/r/t Directv. The channel will be offered on Dish Network's 'top 100' package starting immediately, then switched to 'top 100 plus' in early 2008.

And shockingly, Mediacom has begun new discussions with the BTN (see second half of story in previous link), something they said were dead just a day before the Michigan loss.

Comcast, always a friend of the people, resorted to this. If only they would have done it with a certain John Mackey flair.

Impossibly old landlords and radioactive swamp gas over Aurora (no sarcasm intended) aside, I never understood the trepidation over ditching cable in favor of the wonderful world of satellite. It's free to install, costs the same as cable, always is the first to get channels and keep them, has impeccable customer service and everything is streamlined, making me constantly say, "This is so cool!" Something I don't normally do. But I've beat that drum too long with little effect.

With BTN (without getting into exagerrated cost structures, dopey a la carte programming arguments, etc.), they played this superlatively smart from a business perspective. Ask for the top bundled rate (fuck, E! channel gets it) and if it doesn't pan out, just let the games go as sight unseen until, I don't know, Appalachian State beats Michigan, and cable subscribers can't see it. Sit back and let the phone ring off the hook at the Comcasts of the world. If BTN has to take a hit that first year, so be it. It's not like they don't have the money. And just wait until the basketball season.

They banked and will continue to bank on the superlatively stupid sports fan irate only after the fact. A bet I would take every time.

The NFL Network installed the same business model two years ago to mixed reviews and success. But just wait until they start to broadcast NFL regular season games later in the year and next season, when even more and bigger games are scheduled for broadcast earlier in the season. And again, it's not like they don't have the money.

To be profitable in the long term for both networks, they had to enter the game in a good place, not in a place where the first few years consist of constant haggling with cable companies in an attempt to get out of the sports channel tiers populated by stations catering to Buttfuck, Montana. Once you're there, good luck trying to get out.

Never one to make excuses for big corporations, in this case, it's their fucking property! Given the choice of potentially making oodles of money and potentially losing oodles of money, I personally choose the former. Almost every time. Just seems a smarter business choice. Maybe it's me.

Restaurant Review: Sepia

Everyone's a critic.

In a slow year for notable restaurant openings in Chicago, it seemed every major restaurant review section in the city glommed onto Sepia as the new 'orgasmic' dining experience 'guaranteed to blow you away'.

So after falling prey to the hype, checking out the menu online and surprisingly getting a reservation (supposedly hard to do) through OpenTable, we ventured out recently to hobnob with the trendistas.

It didn't go well, and we're not hard to please.

I'm a sucker for any menu that even remotely resembles Avec's, a somewhat comparable restaurant just around the corner. Give me a menu with small plates consisting of various types of game/beef with interesting sauce accompaniments, and I'm in hook, line and sinker. It works as a haute cuisine sampling extravaganza. I came from a small town where buffets were fine dining. An ounce of that still lingers. Also, I'm a former fatty, and even former fatties still want to eat everything that offered. So after seeing the decor and the menu, things were looking good. Perfectly happy. Not giddy, but happy.

And then the meal started.

There's a reason people eat out. They go out to eat good food done in interesting ways with flavor combinations that don't immediately evoke the familiar or staid, flavors that meld into something transcending the list of ingredients. Pretty simple and restaurant 101.

Sepia does that, but ever-so-slightly. A chef gets into a danger zone when he creates a menu he thinks people will like as opposed to what he/she likes. Chef Kendal Duque has an impressive list of stops in the culinary world, but the food only seems to perfunctorily fulfill the definition of 'New American, locally grown and seasonally-driven with a Spanish flair' cuisine, terms so ubiquitous in the restaurant world as to make me sleepy.

After the meal, I immediately got the feeling that the concept so excited them, but the execution and practical application of the concept left them with a feeling of being stuck with it and they're now just plowing through.

Let's begin.

Word to servers. When a customer asks for a wine recommendation, don't go directly to the most expensive bottles. It's bad form. Given that, the wine list is eclectic in a good way. We had a Chateauneuf du Pape that was spectacular. And the whiskey cocktail with basil is worth a return trip to the bar. Avoid the much-ballyhooed blueberry lemonade. Meh.

The flatbread revolution has begun and we relented. Bacon with peaches and lamb sausage with tomatoes. Bacon - soggy. Lamb - good. Sepia's been open six weeks. The flatbread was $5 upon opening. $6 now. Trivial but not a good sign in the sense they, most likely, saw their customers were loading up on them and the small plates to the detriment of the large plate cash cows. Six weeks in and guest check average is already a factor?

Small plates - rabbit and pork. Rabbit was a muddled mess with peas, tomatoes (an apparent staple - it's seasonal, you know) and a Reisling reduction. The Reisling was lost in the butter while the rabbit lost it's signature flavor as well. The pork rillette (like a paté) was served in a preserve jar, hatch lid and all ("look, it's so whimsical!") with a fig preserve and pistachios. The pork was passable but the fig preserve was a dry, sticky mess. And the brittle seems misplaced. The lemon-sage bread pudding was charred on top and a runny (and I mean Runny) scrambled-egg mess in the middle. How do you screw up bread pudding?

Then we bolted.

Left with a choice of spending an additional $100 on such fair to middling options and bolting, we chose the latter. And here's why (aside from the food).

Our service was pretty terrible. After the aforementioned wine recommendation faux-pas, our server - who seemed nice - was a bit off. I was twice left with no silverware or plate to eat the small plates. Our bottled water was consistently refilled with tap water (no big deal but we did purchase the water for a reason). Our busser routinely kept wanting to take food not finished. We ordered the potatoes in duck fat and never received them. We ordered double espressos and received singles (which were pretty mediocre).

And once the restaurant was full, it was insanely loud.

There. I've become a nit-picky, little food critic bitch.

Sepia's only been open six weeks, so maybe things will get ironed out. But the concept makes me skeptical. People go out for a reason. Sepia's trying to not offend by catering to the downtown business crowd and all their douche-bagginess. That's the problem. They're catering. If a chef makes food that he/she likes instead of catering, success will follow. And if it doesn't, at least they went out on their own terms. That reluctance to challenge may ultimately be their demise. Or at least until someone else opens up a comparatively boring 'next-big-thing'.

Making the best of a brutal situation?

I thank a guy I work with for directing me to this clip. After Sunday night's shift, I needed a diversion.

After watching Return to Paradise and Brokedown Palace on consecutive nights in the late 90s - yes, I admit it, I've seen these movies more than once - I did some research on Southeast Asian prison systems.

Here's a shock. They're brutal. But the judicial systems that lead them to the clink becomes a bit of a chess game. Knowing the system will randomly cherry-pick facts and cater to newspaper headlines, all the while trying to make a point, defendants generally bargain for the place of incarceration over relying on due process.

The location where this clip comes from is one of the better ones.

So relax. Enjoy. Know that these people have good lawyers.

Oh Shit! It's Mr. Creosote! Blame his friends.

This week's New England Journal of Medicine published a three decade-long study that finds one's social network of friends can have as much of an impact on one's weight gain as personal choice and individual restraint.

Conclusion: Dump your fatty friends. They're bad for your health.

Really, there's a lot to like in this study and may contribute to the dialogue in finding new and inventive ways to get people to put the fork down.

Everyone knows this, or at least sees ample (no pun intended) evidence to this fact.

As a waiter, the glut (pun intended) of evidence is intensified, as I see a sizable (I have more...) portion of the population on a nightly basis making food choices based on their's and their friend's impulses.

And as a former fatty, I understand, down to the excruciating minutiae, why one balloons up to maximum capacity. Food is good. Food is just reeaaalllly good.

But this study should probably be seen as an attachment to the greater scope and literature on understanding social networks in general. How friendships are formed and maintained; how friends can directly influence the behavior of each other; how seemingly innocuous daily choices made within a group framework has indirect, long-term consequences, both physically and psychologically. "My group of friends really love Chili's deep-fried Southwest sampler."

More to the point, the excess fat, in many cases, is merely a by-product of people hanging around other people similar to themselves; how identities within the group are formed and a pecking order created; how decisions with many are never individual, but something to be followed. "She's ordering dessert, why can't I?"

Most to the point, nothing happens in a vacuum. Individual choices are never entirely individual, but a personal outgrowth of our experience with the immediate world around us. Our friends/people around us have much more influence over that than broader concepts like 'societal norms' or 'cultural influences'.

In short, w/r/t the study, Well...No Shit friends have influence. This information is new?

Given this study, can someone sue their friends if they have a heart attack? Fit that into the cause célèbre of fixing health care.

Really, where was all this passion in '93 when the Democrats were actively trying to fix this ridiculousness?

How quick those stalwart principles change...

So Nike will now be pulling the impending release of Michael Vick's new shoe line, scheduled to be rolled out next week.

Early yesterday, Nike released a press statement detailing their plans to stand behind Michael Vick, saying every man is innocent until proven guilty. Their wording was dedicated, focused and confident.

Now, In 24 hours, the course has been completely reversed. In addition, Nike has pulled all videos featuring Vick on their website but are pulling the usual corporate bullshit of keeping everything muddled and hush-hush w/r/t their long-term association with Vick. They'll sit low. Ride it out. See if the storm passes.

In an equally disturbing manner, ESPN has changed their story headlines in their wire archives w/r/t the Vick issue as it relates to Nike. Nothing on their site relates to Nike standing behind Vick, as it did earlier yesterday. ESPN's cozy association with Nike invariably comes to mind. Ooooh, for a website snapshot!

Such is our age. And it's allowed.

In an effort to make things clear, all the evidence suggests Michael Vick is a brain-dead Neanderthal who needs to watch dogs fight to the death in order to get some kicks. As someone who enjoys, on a visceral level, the company of dogs over humans, hardly anything can bring me a deeper hatred for another human being more than this. In fact, I rarely will completely trust another human being if they don't like dogs (allergies aside). They're all weird!

With the timing of their reversal, it reminds me of Oprah saying on Larry King that she stands behind James Frey only to completely reverse her position hours later after others provided her with a ethical center.

In a world where ethics are only determined by the severity of the fallout, a corporation's or individual's transparency becomes all the more evident. Follow the developing story and the center becomes bare for all to see.

In short, just follow the sloppiness of it all.

I had a bit of a love affair with Nike shoes for a long time. With a size 13 foot, it was tough to find a shoe that fits, is durable and holds up to the elements as well as Nike shoes have for me. Their shoes became a bit verboten after this. With their capitulation and 'correction', I gave them another chance. As I said, it's tough to find good shoes. I admit the line.

If Vick continues to be a poster child for Nike after all this, I'm done. There. I said it. I'm getting all self-righteous...about shoes.

Dan Patrick jumping off the boo-yah train.

After two weeks of speculation and a mysterious absence from last Tuesday's show - the day the 'Big' announcement was supposed to happen - Dan Patrick just announced he will be leaving the boo-yah network on August 17 of this year to do...whatever.

Yawn.

Aside from my collective indifference to the speculation and announcement as in pertains directly to Patrick, I can only hope this deals a serious blow to the silliness that is ESPN.

Patrick's show is and has always been the definition of dull/boring/monotonous and, one of my favorite words, jejune. The show was always a case study on the stupidity that other people find funny. But with the addition of Keith Olbermann from 1pm to 2pm, the show became passable, mainly because Olbermann is and has always been smart, relevant and highly entertaining.

Keith's show, Countdown on MSNBC, is the best news show on television along with being the show that brought down Rumsfeld in a glorious diatribe that gave me a faint, glimmering hope for American politics (if you haven't watch this, do so!).

Dan Patrick isn't really the face of the network anymore. There has been a concerted effort on the part of ESPN to rein in the egos in order to keep the costs down when it comes to contract negotiations. But there is no denying the possible effect this will have. The last of the old guard is gone, leaving the Stuart Scotts of the world to man the ship. One can only hope someone will pony up the dough to present a challenge to what's become the Evil Empire of sports broadcasting. The time seems right.

I never really cared about ESPN as a presenter/business, it was annoying but not filthy evil, until I read stuff like this and this and this and this.

Throw on the fact that I am now supposed to give a shit about NASCAR, I can only hope ESPN begins to whither on the vine. I'm sure that will come to fruition like my prediction that hip-hop would only be a fad.

Imagine If Kids Were Into Churchy Video Games!?

The fine gentlemen over at IfAnyoneIsAsking today bemoaned the very existence of the peculiar piece of excrement that opened last weekend, Evan Almighty.

Well, not so much the movie, but the fact that such a piece of crap could cost $175 million and how Hollywood plans to, you know, make money shelling out this kind of over-priced crap.

Avant garde, Mate (touché, touché, you know what I mean).

Back in the early 90s (a completely different era than the mid 90s, according to Hawk), I used to buy USA Today. There, I said it. Aside from the superior sports section, I liked to mock Larry King and check out movie news, and in particular, box office results. It was a sport. And I used to work in a video store and the success or failure of the theatrical run of a movie directly determined what was bought for rental, so it was mildly relevant to my so-called job (that's my story and I'm sticking to it).

And even as recent as fifteen years ago, that success or failure at the box office largely determined the overall success of the film from a profit standpoint and the end-of-the-line when it came to the bulk of studio revenue.

Today, it's no longer even close to the case.

Mr. Mate Famber knows all this. He's a smart man. But looking at some of the financial dynamics of today's film industry reveals just how our world of the 'Total Entertainment Experience' has created an enormous safety-net for even the biggest pile of crap coming down the pike.

The Hollywood Economist over at Slate.com breaks it down. To start - and this is on average - for every dollar made at the domestic box office from a film, the studio will spend about $1.40 (budget, marketing, distribution, etc). So, on average, it's a losing venture. A bust. But domestic box office has become merely a springboard into the myriad of media arms after the fact.

Some numbers (linked by the Slate article). Total box office take worldwide for all the studios in 2004 was $7.4 billion; total take from worldwide video distribution was $20.9 billion; total take from selling TV rights (not taking a few particulars into account) was $17.7 billion!

Tack on a video game-friendly movie like Tomb Raider and creative accounting like finding a good German tax shelter and, puff, you're crapping money.


Let's extrapolate on the potential profit of Evan Almighty:

And remember, it's PG for mild rude humor and some peril ("look, it's my duty as a knight to sample as much peril as I can..."), so appeal is critical to the prospects for success.

Last week, it made $31 million in its opening weekend (well below expectations). But given its family-friendly focus and overt, mass appeal to the churchy-types, it should have moderate legs, pushing its domestic take to around $130 million, conservatively. It's worldwide appeal, being a distinctly American cast and having Christian overtones, limits it a bit, so $70 million seems reasonable given its extremely wide distribution and Steve Carell coming off The 40 Year-Old Virgin.

That brings the worldwide box office total to about $200 million. The reported budget was $175 million. Tack on about $80 million for marketing (usually 40% of movie's budget, especially of this size) and $30 million for distribution. That leaves $285 million as the total end-cost for the film.

DVD sales and rentals - again, given its mass family/churchy-Christian appeal - will easily top $120 million. Pay-per-view, a relatively new beast that studios have salivated over, usually add something close to DVD rental numbers. Tack on another $50 million.

TV rights are the gold mine, though, simply because of their long legs. Studios can sell and resell a movie over and over again in perpetuity. Say HBO buys Evan Almighty (which it probably will - it's reached that level of suckitude). The price HBO and other premium channels pay is usually 15-20% of domestic box office. Add $22 million. Basic cable is next (USA, F/X, etc), usually at 8-10% of domestic box office. Add $11 million. Broadcast networks fall in the middle, percentage-wise. Add $18 million. Say NBC buys and airs it two years from now. ABC might buy it for air five years from now for $5 million. It keeps going.

And this only takes into account deals done after the first few weeks of its box office opening, as bidding wars are happening more early each year. And imagine the added revenue when little Jimmy Blinkensop can download it directly to his iPhone (another Farhad Manjoo hummer given to Steve Jobs).

I have Universal's potential profit at $136 million before the movie even exits the theaters. And given its broad appeal, those numbers aren't that far-fetched and a bit conservative if the domestic take surpasses extrapolated forecasts.

Also, let's not forget, in this new world of vertical integration in the movie biz, selling a movie after its theatrical run is like selling something to yourself - robbing Peter to pay Peter - taking advantages of tax dodges, hiding money in a failing media wing and selling it off, transferring losses to a better performer to avoid capital gains and so on and so on and so on. In other words, just short of Enron.

Why Steve Carell took a piece of crap like this is beyond my comprehension. Maybe he had a mortgage payment due (hope it wasn't in Tahoe). But until smart people begin to shame stupid people into avoiding idiotic movies like this one, studios will continue to pump out drivel because it makes silly good money, even if it supposedly bombs.

Going Guerrilla...Over Wine?

French wine vintners are growing desperate.

A recent dispatch from the BBC chronicles a shadowy guerrilla group called the Crav, purportedly made up of wine growers that have given an ultimatum to the French government, saying it better raise wine prices or they're going to spill some blood.

This could get interesting.

Nicolas Sarkozy, France's new president, hasn't commented publicly on the matter, but come Monday, France could become the equivalent of Monty Python's Hell's Grannies; hordes of 80 year-old, red-nosed and angry wine vintners blowing up stocks of Beringer White Zinfindel, crying, "Vive, la France!"

The problems with French wine and winemakers are voluminous. First, the wine bureucracy in France makes the world created in the movie Brazil look positively orderly. Second, as popularity and globalization hit the worldwide wine industry about ten years ago, France stubbornly stuck to old pricing structures and outmoded marketing in the face of such challenges. Really. Try to find a really good red wine from France in the $15-25 price range.

Also - and this is quality as well as a growing hinderance - French winemakers strictly adhere to the ideal of terrior, a concept simply defined as whatever the earth, wind and sky allows them in a given year. No irrigation. No manipulation. It's what the ideal of wine has been for centuries, a product of the life we live.

But heavy rains, droughts, early frosts or just a moderately damp season can make for extremely uneven reaps, and make wines with a distinctly different character from the year before, upsetting the growing hordes of novice wine drinkers, including me. With French wine, you never know what you're going to get from year to year. And with French wine, it takes upwards of $100 to find the character for which France has become famous. I've always wanted to understand French wine, but there's that whole 'paying my bills' thing. Other wine regions have found a way to adhere to idea of terrior and bring it to market in a reasonable price range.

The Crav has an uphill battle and the French government has a decision to make when it comes to what is uniquely French, thus deserving more subsidization. Check out the documentary, Mondovino to see just how dire things are getting. So dire in fact, French winemakers, as well as the greater European wine community, have such a surplus of unsold wine, they are considering selling tonnages equivalent to lakes-full of wine as biofuel.

So keep an eye out next week for Hell's Vintners. And go to How the World Works for the impetus to this post.

Pulling a Michael Moore on Michael Moore.

Um, I will be checking this out.

The Los Angeles Times has an article about two liberal filmmakers from Canada who followed Michael Moore during his 2004 college campus tour. The resulting documentary exposes, at length, a glut of fabrications and manipulations Moore has used in his documentaries.

It could be a load of crap, but there seems to be a level of credibility here that, in the least, warrants a viewing.

Moore's a tool and deserves a beatdown. There is a part of me that hopes it succeeds.

I applaud his targets but bemoan his methods. He's a manipulative whore that isn't even on the same continent as honest, both factually and emotionally.

And he invested in Halliburton?

Good nuggets here.

The cavalry is back! And then it's not.

In a fit of grinder dust, Darin Erstad made his return to the White Sox lineup yesterday. And as per usual, promptly went down in a fit of tweakiness.

The fact that he went down in the first inning, diving for a ball hit by Mike Fontenot, the second batter of the game, may have been a record for the shortest stint upon returning from the disabled list.

But Juan Gonzalez holds that record, grounding out to third base on the third pitch he saw after three years away from the game and pulling his hamstring on the trot down to first. He never even took the field.

I'm an Angels fan, so I had the privilege to watch, on a daily basis, Erstad's superior level of crapitude and tweakiness for 11 seasons. The 'he's sooo grindy' talk was present in Anaheim, too. In fact, the grindy, grindy, grindy mantra most likely started in its ubiquitous form in 2002 with the Angels' World Series run and the play of the pint-sized Superman, David Eckstein. You should have witnessed how much heart he showed grounding out to short.

And Erstad was part of that, that 'grindy' talk, mostly trumpeted by the worst TV tandem in the history of sports, Steve Physioc and Rex Hudler, a duo that brings (or brought, I thank all that is holy) new meaning to the phrase 'toeing the company line'. For a more encyclopedic list of this kind of silliness, visit FireJoeMorgan.com, particularly on Darin Erstad and David Eckstein.

While it seems a little late in the game, as it were, to critique Kenny Williams for signing Erstad (and they have many more problems than just Erstad), what Sox fans are witnessing right now - if they even care anymore - is, to the letter, a mirror of Erstad's last five seasons.

He came cheap, and may have been worth the risk, but adding this particular brand of tweakiness to a lineup already injury-prone (Podsednik, Crede, Thome) only aggravates the search for even a modicum of consistency, where Kenny rolled the dice one too many times and the reason they're fielding a Triple-A team. Oh, and the fact that their hitting is absolutely brutal.

But Erstad's season averages, taking away his one season that made his name seven years ago (.355, 25hr, 100rbi, .409 OBP), are .273, 8hr, 50rbi with an OBP of .327. In other words, worse than Jacque Jones, way worse, and someone the Sox are rumored to be looking to acquire!

While that trade will never happen, it almost makes sense for centerfield. It's an indicator of just how desperate things are getting and an example of how a seemingly solid signing in Erstad can royally screw up the works.

Odds on what inning Podsednik tweaks something? Fifth inning?

"There's no denying the smooth taste." - Rod Serling

Now my wife and I watch oodles of HGTV and select home-makeover shows, mainly to incessantly mock them, but some exhibit a superior level of design and creativity that's fun to see put together within a specified, half-hour time frame.

If anything, two years of watching these shows imparts an understanding of color, placement and design theory that my feeble brain never truly understood before and I'm probably a better man for it (you should have seen some of my apartments).

But a dirty virus has begun to creep into some of the crappier ones - prominent, and I mean PROMINENT, product placement. And it's not so much with product placement per se, it's the surreptitious nature in which they're placed.

It's been around forever. And the current level probably was ushered in with The Apprentice or maybe Fear Factor. Heck, Rod Serling used to smoke Chesterfields during his conclusions to the episodes of Twilight Zone and then immediately do a commercial for them, saying, "There's no denying the smooth taste."

On this note, since Dale Levitski is competing on Top Chef, I thought I'd check it out.


Let's go over, minute-by-minute, a product-placement account of last night's second episode of the third season:

0:00 - 1:00 - Food & Wine Magazine, Glad and Evian

Okay, they sponsor the show. Free pass.

1:00 - 3:00 - Evian and Glad

Maybe not okay. Random food being put into the fridge by contestants just waking up and getting some coffee are, what do you know!, Glad Press-n-Seal. Glad BigBag boxes are stacked just below the counter behind a contestant drinking coffee, talking about his hard life and reading the paper with a Glad Pop-Top lid sitting next to it. An Evian bottle is on the nightstand as a contestant is roused from sleep because everyone needs pure, artesian water refreshment in the middle of the night.

3:00 - 4:00 - General Electric

Segments segue from the contestant filing out of their suite to the QuickFire Challenge is a zoom in on a GE Monogram logo, not once but twice, in case you didn't catch it the first time.

4:00 - 5:00 - Florida Citrus Fruits, Calphalon cookware

They're using citrus fruits as the focus of the challenge, so some leniency here, but FLORIDA CITRUS is everywhere, a key product to the economy of Florida and huge advertiser nationwide. Calphalon pans, absolutely identifiable to people that know them, are ubiquitous.

11:00 - Kingsford

Elimination Challenge is a upscale BBQ event brought to you by Kingsford charcoal, because only Kingsford elicits the superlative nature of 'upscale' and 'BBQ'.

19:00 - Toyota Rav4

The contestants are given a budget for their BBQ challenge and go to shop for the ingredients at Fresh Market. Upon finishing, they load up the food into the back of an SUV and close the door. As the door closes, we get a zoom-in and close-up of the Toyota Rav4 logo on the back of SUV. No accounting for the clunky sound the door makes as it shuts.

20:00 - 24:00 - Glad is back.

While the contestants prepare the food in the kitchen, Glad containers, curiously still in their cardboard boxes with the big 'GLAD' across the side, sit right next to a chef as he mixes, completely in the way. This is a timed event so a clock in the kitchen is intermittently shown. Next to the clock sits a Glad box, turned just so.

As they pack up and put all their prepared food into the Igloo coolers, an orgy of Glad containers explode onto the scene. We are shown a chef sealing some food into Glad Pop-N-Seals with another prominent Glad cardboard box in camera-shot. Glad Freezer Bags are everywhere.

28:00 - And Evian's back in play.

The contestants, back at the apartment, get ready to go to the challenge. Spliced between testimonials and various packing up, a camera follows a contestant through the room and then stops. The contestant keeps walking but an Evian bottle is squared up and in focus, the only reason to stop precisely there.

Dale just turned a lotion bottle's label away from the camera. Could just be a coincidence but he was absolutely absent from this episode. Maybe he wasn't playing ball?

28:00 - 33:00 - Kingsford and Aqua Island Homes

The contest begins. As we are given an opening montage to the setting of the challenge, there's scantily-clad beach-goers, palm trees, sand and...a real estate sign for Aqua Island Homes? Being the Kingsford challenge, Kingsford litters the BBQ stations. More Calphalon, more Igloos, more Glad, more Evian. Now Kingsford is sponsoring it, but the killer is when a contestant extols the virtues of the various kinds of wood offered to cook with. Mesquite, hickory and Kingsford offers all of them! Now that's convenience...and upscale.

Oh, zoom-out of the meat in a pan of one of the contestants with an Evian bottle snuggled up against it. Cold water right up against a steaming hot plate of meat. Does everyone know Evian has the signature lipstick-red pop top. Get that?

33:00 - New one with Moët Champagne.

Champagne is poured for the upscale and sexy BBQ with the Moët label turned just right.

37:00 - More Glad and Evian

Time to pack up. Hey, let's use Glad ForceFlex garbage bags. They're the ones that never rip, even under the biggest stress. While we do this, let's drink some Evian because this is tiring work. Better yet, let's drink some Evian out of their large, decorated bottles with the embedded seal lid.

The rest is contestant elimination silliness. Oh, the drama. At least Sandie didn't pontificate about how strong she is and how other, better challenges await her and she can't be defeated, as is the M.O. for contestants on shows of this ilk.


Anyone feel like some Kingsford-smoked BBQ. We can wash it down with some Evian. Afterwards, we can pack up the leftovers in Glad containers while drinking some Moët Champagne. Anyone?

A&W commercial: Banking on the Stupidity of the People.

Advertising the use of 100% U.S. products has been a long-time, and occasionally abused, tradition for companies marketing in America. From U.S. car makers telling us that buying a Honda is somehow unpatriotic to Walmart advertising, in vague post-9/11 rhetoric with flags waving in the background, that shopping elsewhere may help the terrorists.

But A&W may have trumped them all.

In their new ad, an A&W loyalist sits next to Ronald McDonald and expresses his extreme disappointment that McDonald's uses New Zealand beef in their burgers while telling him A&W uses 100% U.S. beef in their PapaBurger.

It's a fairly new marketing device, used in the last ten years, where apparently our relationship with various companies/stores/restaurants can be something akin to a love affair, calling forth emotions usually reserved for intense love connections.

Playing on the recent fears of tainted pet food and toothpaste for China, A&W caters to the stupid by using loads of innuendo and insinuation - and most importantly plausible deniability - by saying McDonald's use of New Zealand beef betrays the very notion of 'being American'.

On the health issues of New Zealand beef, it is one of the least likely to be tainted with Mad Cow Disease, according to the United Nations. Not one reported case. Also, New Zealand beef is and has always been 100% organic, eliminating any threat related to hormonal 'frankenburger' concerns.

And curiously, A&W, a subsidiary of Yumi Brands, the people who bring you KFC, TacoBell and Long John Silver's, was recently sued and lost for their rampant cruel and unusual punishment in the killing of chickens for use in their products (in this case, PETA got it right).

But the best part is the plausible deniability. The ad makes no qualifying claims in association with the use of New Zealand beef, just that it apparently betrays the American consciousness, accompanied by the use of copious amounts of American flags and patriotic music in one form or another. The conclusion is there for only the viewer to draw. But with the timing with the pet food and toothpaste scare, the allusion is palpable.

And unbelievably pathetic.

Conservative bloggers are about as useless as a marzipan dildo.

Late last week, the immigration bill was resuscitated from the dead with a border security and enforcement attachment totaling $4.4 billion used to placate the fence-sitters.

And the conservative bloggers have given a unifying 'you're dead to me' in the direction of Bush.

Weeeell, bully for you!

I'm no fan of Bush. But if there was ever one issue that he accidentally got right, it's the understanding that immigration reform is so terribly long overdue, it boggles the mind.

Let's look at a few of the conservative bloggers' spewings:

"This is akin to amnesty."

No. This is amnesty. And there's nothing wrong with that. Cautious estimates say there are 12 illegal immigrants in the U.S. right now. More aggressive estimates put the number closer to 15-18 million. By the sheer magnitude of the situation, something have to be done. And we can knock off the 'they broke the law' bullshit. Have some level of compassion for your fellow man, or at least fake it for the purposes of a sane argument.

Let's say you live in Guatemala, have a wife and four kids and make the equivalent of $5 a day. Schools are shit. Working conditions blow. You're dirt-ass poor. You have two choices. Stay in your stupid situation...or...pay a border jumper $3000 and go to the United States where you can make fifteen times your current wage, live and work in something resembling sanitary conditions and be able to provide for you and your brood in a way never even imagined before. Or you could do it the 'legal' way and put yourself on a waiting list for migration to the United States through the U.S. Embassy and wait EIGHT years (on average) to be processed.

No choice.

"The government did this in 1986 and it didn't work."

It was the definition of a half-ass effort and didn't address the unforeseen dramatic increase in immigration the country saw in the 90s.

If you want to see a real immigration problem, look to Europe, particularly France, England and Amsterdam. Aside from the xenophobic asshats (LePen, etc.), real concerns like housing shortages, strain on infrastructure and educational systems along with true language and cultural barriers that have created something resembling a caste system (see the Paris riots last year). When it comes to xenophobic remarks, much of the rhetoric coming from some of the bloggers mimics, word for word, some of LePen's campaign speeches.

The United States does not have anything close to these issues, at least not near to the extent Europe does. The absorption, over the last decade, of millions of legal and illegal immigrants has been amazingly successful. And quit using the word 'plague' to describe the situation.

"All these illegal immigrants put a strain on the U.S. economy."

Bullshit.

Dozens of studies have analyzed the impact and nearly every one has shown the economic impact to be so minimal that it could be filed under 'within the margin of error', and that is only taking into account the tangible, concrete numbers.

"The cheap labor depresses wages."

Strike two.

This only happens at the lowest end of the U.S. economy (unskilled workers) and much of the deficit is made up by the corresponding price reduction in consumer products. Any U.S. citizen complaining about lower wages has every possible access to further education that their supposed illegal immigrant 'competitors' do not. That excuse doesn't wash with me, flapjack.

"They put on a strain on the social services network."

And strike three.

A great portion of the illegal immigrant population ARE on the payroll, complete with all the corresponding federal, state and FICA taxes withdrawn, yet, because of the fear of being deported, many simply do not use any service that would create a paper trail or send up a red flag. The numbers from most studies find the impact on this issue just as marginal as the supposed wage depression.

There is a noted strain on emergency hospital care and clinics but this is only seen as something near a problem in three states - California, Texas and New York - where a full two-thirds of the illegal immigrant population is concentrated.

But Social Security, something Congress has decided to avoid addressing in any meaningful way for two decades now, may be saved by illegal immigrants. With the U.S. population aging, the influx of young immigrant workers on the books and paying taxes, the ratio of beneficiary to worker tips the scales in favor of solvency, at least in the short term (20 years).

"The guest worker program won't work and will create a depressed underclass."

What do we have now?

It's flawed, but not dangerously flawed and, in some ways, bold in the sense that it tries something in order to find what works and what doesn't. If anything, it's an attempt to formalize and document who is here and what are their skills. So what is the argument?


In my experience, conversations with people who against any immigration reform begins to reek of xenophobic asshattedness. Usually, they don't know any illegal immigrants, or worse, know only one who happens to be a raging asshole. Oodles more could be written here that gets into the details of such conservative (and liberal) silliness, but I don't have the energy.

$20 says it doesn't pass.

Why was he taking his pants off?

This just in. Carlos Zambrano has a screw loose.

During the fight at Wrigley today, he had to be restrained from getting in on the melee but apparently, in his fit of frustration, decided that taking off his pants would do. (about 26 seconds in).

How FWB.

When will the lambs stop screaming!?

I was doing some trolling over at waiterrant.net today and couldn't resist the opportunity to tell the story of the one waiting job I ever quit in a huff.

Here's a copy and paste:

My first job ten years ago, at a failing chain restaurant just BELOW Applebee’s on the restaurant spectrum, was the only job I ever quit.

It was a weekday lunch, a Tuesday IRCC, one of those shifts waiters are forced to take in order to score the weekend shifts. I was resigned to the fact that I would be making $32 that day, but I wasn’t ready for the 16-top that sat in my section just as I was campaigning to be cut.

They were large people, big and sweaty with six equally round children in tow. Aside from the copious amounts of deep-fried food and Diet Cokes they ordered, I had never experienced a louder and more rude table up to that point in my waiting career.

But the kicker came when they asked for the check. Ten separate checks, multiple split items. This was the time when Micros REALLY sucked and this particular restaurant had decided to stay with the 1989 model. After much cursing and questions regarding who gets what and how much, I was spent. I had hit a waiting tables nadir.

Things were just finishing up and I glanced at the table from the waiter nook and saw the woman that caused it all. She was big, dressed in a moo-moo and sitting right in front of the bay window. The noon summer sun was shining through her moo-moo, revealing more than I wanted to see and she was going to town on the remnants of the chicken wing sampler, so loudly clacking I could hear it 20 feet away. In her arm was her three year-old doing the same, gnawing away, both open-mouthed chewing in unison. She saw me looking at her and asked through her chewing for a refill on her Diet Coke.

That was it. I was done. I couldn’t reconcile this with a good way to earn a living. I walked back to the kitchen, patted my manager on the back and put my book in his chest. I gave him a ‘thanks - nothing personal, just can’t do this’, and walked out, brimming with a restorative optimism of a Jack Kerouac hero.

Three days later, tail firmly implanted between legs, I tried to get my job back.

To this day, the most embarrassing, soul-crushing moment of my life.

Note: I forgot (truly) to mention the fact that, when asking (gulp!) for my job back, I was rebuffed...with extreme prejudice.

In Defense of Mike North???

This morning on the Mike North Morning Show, Chicago White Sox pitching coach Don Cooper, a regular and paid contributor to the show, took strong exception (audio) to North's characterization of the White Sox as 'laying down and quitting'. So much so, Cooper only rebuttal consisted of calling Mike a 'jerk-off'.

Aaaah, sports radio. Good stuff.

There's a very recent history here. A month ago, just about the time everyone began to understand the Sox were going to blow this year, A.J. Pierzynski, on North's show, expressed his relative displeasure over not being in the starting lineup to start the series against the Cubs.

Ozzie Guillen, always the wordsmith, immediately called in (he wasn't called) and proceeded to drop a load of F-bombs, over the air, with an 'I make the damn lineup!' sprinkled in. North responded with a convoluted and transparent diatribe against Ozzie that begged for an entry back into something approaching relevance. And it actually worked.

Now Mike North hasn't been on the same continent as interesting, smart or even mildly humorous for a loooong time. But this is his job. This is what he does. For fifteen years now. This is the gig.

Sports journalism fits only the nominal definition of journalism, for the most part. And sports radio is the bastard child of that. Nobody is under any delusions about it's importance in the grand scheme of things.

Except athletes and managers.

I understand that if Mike North said the things he said in the interview in the manner in which he said it, I'd want to pop him as well. And North's heading toward a Chet Coppock-like beatdown.

But Cooper and Guillen have to act like they've won something recently, which they have. Act like they've achieved something in the profession, which they have. Act like they have a job that demands a level of decorum, which they do. Most of all, GROW UP! Know what you're walking into. Know all the possibilities. Know how to react with a modicum of dignity when you're taking it in the nuts in life.

W/r/t the White Sox, the ship is sinking, my friends. The mice are fleeing. It's gettin' ugly.

It was a good run.

Nice Hair, Dale!

It's always nice to see people you know achieve some level of success.

A few months ago, my wife and I ate at Schwa, an silly-good restaurant on Ashland garnering national raves for it's innovative and quasi-experimental American cuisine with a Midwest bent. It's a tiny operation with a rather long waiting list for reservations.

Halfway through the meal, one of the chefs came out with a course - as they do - and gave an enthusiastic hello to us in the manner in which indicated that we knew him. After much searching of our silly brains trying to place him, we finally sucked it up and asked the waiter.

To my shock and dismay, we both had worked with him at a place in Iowa City for almost a year. After getting over my initial feeling of terdballness (I'm terrrible with names and apparently faces - I'm an arrogant ass), it was great to see someone we knew achieve such a level of success so quickly.

This brings us to Dale Levitski. Tonight, on Bravo, a show I've never watched, a guy I worked with and lived next to for two years in Iowa City will contend for the best foodie honor on the third season of Top Chef.

Dale started out as a line cook at the Ground Round, the place where I started my illustrious waiting career. I really only knew him through mutual drunk and stoned friends but the man knew how to cook.

I think he's bored.

Good Luck, Dale!

Read the article about his appearance in Metromix.com