I was watching Larry King last night because I love hard hitting news-erviews and grumbled sentence fragments. Well let me tell you, Larry delivered that and a whole lot more.
His guest was Kyle Maynard, a young man who suffers from something called congenital amputation. Now if you, like me, don't speak fancypants, you might have assumed that this means that Kyle was born without genitals. Apparently this isn't the case. Congenital amputation means that Kyle was born with short little jointless limbs -- he kind of looks like he's had all four limbs amputated. And I suppose he has... by God. Anyway, the reason Larry was talking to Kyle is that he's a wrestler and was recently awarded ESPN's 2004 Espy. What exactly that means, I don't know, but it was enough for Larry.
Now I think it's fantastic that Kyle is a can do kind of guy, that he doesn't let his disability stop him, that it's not a handicap, it's a handican, and all that stuff. But isn't one of the things that makes wrestling hard avoiding getting locked up into an arm bar or, like, a figure four leg lock? Not so hard if you don't have arms or legs. Plus, is any fully-limbed wrestler really going to give it their all against this guy? Granted, wrestlers are often not all there, but I seriously doubt it.
The way I see it, calling this guy a great wrestler is like calling a baby a great boxer because no one will punch him in the ring.
Analogcabin @ 1:50 PM ------------------------- You know what they say: Shooting a seven-year-old on sitting on a couch is like shooting fish in a barrel. Today's gangstas -- they just lazy, yo.
Analogcabin @ 8:57 AM ------------------------- I usually don't post articles in entirety, opting instead to delude myself into thinking you actually follow the link before gorging your gluttonous selves on my comic confections. But today is different. This is different. I invite you, my drooling devotees, to make the jokes yourselves. In the Spoonbender style, of course.
Analogcabin @ 8:42 AM ------------------------- This article examines the popularity of the newly-released book "He's Just Not Into You: The No Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys" by former Sex in the City writer Liz Tuccillo and unsuccessful stand-up comedian Greg Behrendt.
Analogcabin @ 4:23 PM ------------------------- Those of you who know me know that I believe very strongly in a concept called the Brotherhood of Man -- that men are different only superficially and that women are left out.
Analogcabin @ 7:30 AM ------------------------- Over the distinguished 17 month history of The Spoonbender it's become something of a tradition for me to give thanks publicly in my last post prior to the Thanksgiving break. In 2003, for example, I gave thanks that I was not Glen Campbell.
Analogcabin @ 8:24 AM ------------------------- If you've never thought you'd be injured by a cell phone explosion, think again. This article tells the sad story of Curtis Sathre, and reminds us all we've got plenty to give thanks for this year.
Analogcabin @ 4:58 PM ------------------------- Analogcabin @ 8:43 AM ------------------------- Analogcabin @ 11:44 AM ------------------------- Heartened by their triumph hosting this year's Olympics and steeled by years of gritting their teeth while taking it up the ass, the Greeks chosen the venue for their next triumph. What is it? It's whatever court hears international lawsuits over unfair portrayals of historical figures by coke addled film directors. I don't know what that court's called, but I'm guessing it's in The Hague.
Analogcabin @ 11:24 AM ------------------------- I wasn't a bad kid. I mean, I did some bad things -- things that got me into trouble or would have had I been caught -- but I don't think I did anything really, utterly stupid.
Analogcabin @ 10:49 AM ------------------------- In a move that shocked even his staunchest critics, President Bush today nominated Tori Spelling to be the nation's next Secretary of Education. Spelling, best known as Donna on TV's Beverly Hills 90210, is not known to have experience in either public service or education.
Analogcabin @ 4:13 PM ------------------------- News that today the Pentagon's Missle Defense Agency successfully fired an airplane-mounted laser designed to "focus a basketball-sized spot of heat" on a target, destroying it from hundred of miles away might seem like the kind of innovation of which there's no downside.
Analogcabin @ 2:34 PM ------------------------- There's nothing I can say to make this story any funnier.
Analogcabin @ 9:11 AM ------------------------- The FDA has requested that drug dealer Pfizer pull its "Wild Thing" television campaign for blockbuster weenie-hardening agent Viagra off the air because the spots omit specifics about the drug and its side-effects.
Analogcabin @ 4:06 PM ------------------------- Analogcabin @ 9:37 AM ------------------------- The White House announced the resignation of administration fall guy Colin Powell this morning. According to Powell's spokesman, his primary reason for leaving his post is that "his bottom hurts." When asked what he plans to do next, his spokesman said Powell intends to spend the next few years "lamenting the political career he could have had."
Analogcabin @ 8:48 AM ------------------------- I suspect he's going to be very popular in San Quentin.
Analogcabin @ 1:59 PM ------------------------- There are two types of people in this world: Those who wait for explicit instructions from God, and those who can read between the lines. Renee Johnson is one of the latter. Allow me to explain the difference.
Analogcabin @ 11:26 AM ------------------------- A jet carrying Prince Charles' sister, Princess Anne, was involved in what the kingdom's National Air Traffic Service called with charming British understatement "an air promximity incident." According to a spokesman, the only thing that averted a mid-air collision was the other plane's last minute glimpse of Anne, which "causes even inanimate objects to recoil in horror."
Analogcabin @ 11:13 AM ------------------------- I don't know whether I'm late to hear the news or early, but I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate Ultragrrl on her book deal.
Analogcabin @ 4:20 PM ------------------------- I wanted to make it clear to everyone that I am not affiliated with this. Analogcabin @ 12:49 PM ------------------------- There are those among us that will say that Aleta St. James, the 57-year-old whose delivery of twins made the news today, is selfish and irresponsible for what she's done. They'll say that just because your withered old womb works well enough to fleshubate donated eggs fertilized in-vitro doesn't mean you should do it. They'll say that St. James subjected the children to a high risk of premature birth which could have meant severe brain damage and that, simply because she beat those odds, the children will still most likely be orphaned in their teens. There'll be people that say that, if they're not orphaned, they'll enjoy formative years made full by changing their mother's diapers. They'll learn to drive on trips back and forth to doctors' offices and hospitals. They'll lose their virginity while out past curfew, but will suffer no punishment because their senile mother thinks curfew is the loveseat in the family room. There'll be people who say that Aleta St. James has put her children into the position of choosing a college at the same time they're choosing a nursing home. These people will say that you need not look further than Aleta's son's name -- Gian, pronounced "John" -- for evidence of her "to hell with the children, pay attention to me, world!" attitude.
Analogcabin @ 1:25 PM ------------------------- Analogcabin @ 12:25 PM ------------------------- There are countless reasons that you read The Spoonbender. Some of you read it because you find my writing inspirational. Others, because you find my ideas revolutionary. Still others because my brain arouses you spiritually and, yes, sexually. But above all, you come here day after day because you know that I am just and I am fair. You know I will prosecute the possibly guilty and I will defend in the indefensible.
Analogcabin @ 4:34 PM ------------------------- An Air Force fighter jet strafed a New Jersey school and, predictably, the government has been quick to dismiss the incident as a "training accident." But I think we all know what's really going on here: Retribution for New Jersey's 15 electoral votes going to Kerry.
Analogcabin @ 12:04 PM ------------------------- Because I'm engaged in our country's political scene and love to make stupid bets, I just made the following wager with bottom-feeder The American Mastodon:
Analogcabin @ 9:51 AM ------------------------- Americans respond to the election.
Analogcabin @ 8:46 AM ------------------------- I assume I'm not the only Kerry supporter in the vast and impossibly liberal blogosphere who has been accused of exaggerating the implications of the election. Perhaps I did. I hope I did. But I don't really think that the argument to make is this: "If you think Bush's America is bad, you should check out [insert horrible, likely dark-complected country here.]"
Analogcabin @ 1:56 PM ------------------------- Unless something really spectacular happens, it looks like it's time to congratulate President George W. Bush. I think this election will mean a lot me and others, so I'm bidding my salutations....
Analogcabin @ 8:40 AM ------------------------- Dear God:
Analogcabin @ 1:23 PM ------------------------- There are some people who believe that there's only one thing deader than charity in America, and it's education. Then there are people who believe that America's purple majesty is erected by a combination of hard work and generous hand outs, and who aren't sure that "deader" is even a word. I'm proud to say that I'm one of these people and, from what I can tell, so is Dan Brown.
Analogcabin @ 3:40 PM ------------------------- This article, about a 5-year-old girl who cannot feel pain, is one of CNN.com's "Top Stories" this morning, and I'm not sure why. Her name is Ashlyn Blocker, and her condition is an extremely rare genetic disorder -- perhaps less than 20 people suffer from it nationwide. That's pretty rare, so I'll grant that her prognosis might have been news when she was diagnosed, but that was 4 years ago. If that's the news here, it's not exactly hot off the presses.
Analogcabin @ 9:06 AM -------------------------
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Rest in peace, Diva White. And fifty bucks says she wasn't.
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LAVA LAMP EXPLODES ON STOVETOP, KILLING MAN
Tuesday, November 30, 2004 Posted: 2:53 AM EST (0753 GMT)
KENT, Washington (AP) -- A man who placed a lava lamp on a hot stovetop was killed when it exploded and sent a shard of glass into his heart, police said.
Philip Quinn, 24, was found dead in his trailer home Sunday night by his parents.
'Why on earth he was heating a lava lamp on the stove, we don't know,' Kent Police spokesman Paul Petersen said Monday.
After the lamp exploded, Quinn apparently stumbled into his bedroom, where he died Sunday afternoon, authorities said.
Police found no evidence of drug or alcohol use.
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Monday, November 29, 2004
I know what you're thinking: The no-holds barred dishiness of Sex in the City combined with the fully-automatic laughmunition of stand up comedy, distilled into something you can read while riding the subway or getting assfucked, which is less than 200 pages, and which doesn't reference economic theory at all? Where do I sign up?
Right here, toots. [SFX: Unzip. Meaty flop.]
As I understand it, this book has made quite a splash among the young, not-so-young, urban, single, desperate, delusional, and single female. In other words, prey. But seriously, folks, the book has been embraced by its target audience for delivering on its title's promise with honesty, frankness, and poke you in the vulva humor. Apparently women, who science has long assumed were simply emotionally volatile and intellectually inferior, were actually just preoccupied with finding excuses why this man or that doesn't want to marry them. They've been searching for answers to the puzzling puzzle that is the modern man, and they find the book's simple explanation, that "He's Just Not Into You," freeing.
Well I've got news for you, honey. There's a second course to that meal, and it's not going to go down as easy as you do. The truth is that, no, we're not into you, but not just you. We're just not into any girls with really bad acne. Or girls with herpes, not matter how innocently they caught it. And we're just not into fat girls, or girls with big ugly noses. We're just not into small boobs, or weird veiny ones. And we're just not into girls that annoy the shit out of us because they talk constantly.
But if the book means you'll stop calling, knock yourself out.
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That said, today I offer you the two differences between the United States and Ukraine. The first is that in Ukraine, when an election's fraudulent, they complain. The second is that in the United States, we wear aprons underneath our overcoats.
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Wednesday, November 24, 2004
You know what they say: Be careful what you give thanks for. I'm still not Glen Campbell, and I realize now that it was a stupid thing for which to give thanks. Campbell sang "Wichita Lineman," for God's sake, and if being drunk is wrong, I don't want to be right.
So last year's foolishness has made me think about my thanks more carefully this year, because I don't want to have to Indian give thanks again next year. After no small
amount of consideration, I've decided to give thanks that I'm not a Colombian woman.
Obviously, the above news story is one reason. Being a woman in a place where they steal babies is one thing. Being one in a place where they do it by slipping you a mickey and cutting the kid out of your gut is another.
I know what you're thinking: But what about the coke? Coke grows on trees down there! Actually, bushes, but I know what you're getting at. Sure, easy access to lots of cocaine is one of the upsides of Colombia. But I think of it this way: no matter how high you are, you're still in Colombia -- Home of the Kidnapping and the Mudslide. Plus, cocaine isn't going to put that baby back in your belly, no matter how much you snort.
Happy Thanksgiving, My Adoring Fans. When you say a prayer before feasting, say a prayer for me.
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Tuesday, November 23, 2004
In a split second last August, [his son] Michael's exploding cell phone had hit him between the eyes and lodged in the ceiling of the family's home in Oceanside, California.
His eyes still watering from the pain and flash of light, the elder Sathre tried to make his way to the kitchen to call 911. Sadly, his trip was cut short. Because his ears were ringing, he didn't hear Michael warn him about the banana peel he'd carelessly dropped onto the foyer's tile floor. Sathre was up-ended and hung horizontal in the air for what seemed like an eternity. He hit the floor with such force, the cell phone dislodged from ceiling and landed, again squarely on the bridge of Sathre's nose. With that, the phone sounded its death rattle, emitting a warbled version of the ring tone Michael's father had come to loathe even before the incident -- Andrew W.K.'s "Party Hard." Ironic, then, that he looked now like nothing so much as the album's cover photo.
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The CNN caption for this picture is "Women taking part in an HIV/AIDS project in Uganda."
Sure, fat ladies dancing around in colorful clothing is fun, but if that's what passes for an "AIDS project" in Uganda, it's no wonder.
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Monday, November 22, 2004
By now we've all heard about Chai Vang -- the hunter who managed to kill five and wound three yesterday before running out of ammo and calling it a day. Usually bagging those kind of numbers is considered a great feat during Wisconsin's deer season. But Vang was shooting at people, so the hunting community's response has been more subdued.
Vang was arrested and police allege he shot the eight people during the course of a dispute over use of a tree stand. But until a jury decides whether or not Vang mistook the octet for a herd, we're left to ask ourselves, "Who is this deadeye and what makes him tick?"
I began my search where I begin so many: at Google. According to the story, Vang's a native of St. Paul. I put two and two together, and looked for "Chai Vang St. Paul." I was caught off-guard when I came up with this telling and touching art work.
Accompanying the piece is the following explanation from the artist:
Help stopping pollution from getting to the river sot he fish could liv in the Mississippi River
because our body is made out of water and we drink water from the Mississippi River.
And how.
So before you find him guilty, I ask you all this: Are our bodies not made of water? Do we not want fish to liv in the mighty Mississip? Is not the plight of our environment more important than a few slow hunters?
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Friday, November 19, 2004
A group of Greek lawyers led by none other than new age composer/total dreamboat Yannis Varnakos has threatened to sue Oliver Stone over his portrayal of Alexander the Great in the upcoming film Alexander. The the lawyers admit they haven't actually seen the movie, but from what they gather, apparently Stone's Alexander isn't only interested in putting his gyro into spanokopita, if you know what I mean. What I'm trying to say is that his grape leaves are as delicious in hummus as they are in... ah... a man's butt.
I, for one, am proud to support the Greeks. Audiences have come to expect historical accuracy from Oliver Stone, and I think he should be legally compelled to deliver. I also think that even the intimation that Alexander the Great was bisexual is offensive. Haven't the gays blighted history enough?
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Thursday, November 18, 2004
For example, from the time I was probably 15 or 16 until I went to college I used this guy named Gabe Humbert's old driver's license to buy booze. It was an awful likeness and it had expired, but there was an Indian guy who ran a little store on Bailey Avenue who required only the most basic proof of age. Once my friend Kevin gave him an insurance card and it was accepted. Now I realize what I did was illegal, but the goal was understandable: To get drunk on 40 ounce bottles of Crazy Horse malt liquor and call girls who would prefer not to talk with us.
Here's another example: My friend Keith and I used to go from garage to garage looking for cases of beer to take. Though we never broke into garages that were locked, I supposed what we did is technically robbery or larceny or something. I see now that it was dumb, but our goal was understandable: To get drunk while sitting in a home construction site, trying to get Nikki Benatovitch and her somewhat fatter, but bigger boobed friend to give us tug jobs.
In both of the examples above, what I did was wrong. But at least the motive was understandable.
These kids are different. Sure, there's some comedy inherent in hijinks involving a turkey during the Thanksgiving season. But using a stolen credit card? Why? And a frozen turkey from a speeding car? Unless you're retarded you know it's going to cause serious damage and you don't even get the hilarious splat anyone who's dropped a turkey knows they make.
What I'm trying to say is that what I did when I was young might have been bad. They was I see it, I took calculated risks for clear rewards. These kids didn't even get any beer out of the deal.
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Wednesday, November 17, 2004
"Perhaps President Bush has confused Spelling with spelling," speculated Senator Arlen Spector (R-PA.) "Either that, or he's thinking with his dick. And I don't mean Cheney."
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Tuesday, November 16, 2004
I assure you there is.
This laser was built on the backs of unknowing young men and women tricked into creating a powerful, horrible weapon by publicity hounding professors, money hungry corporate fat cats, and power hungry generals. These young men and women are real geniuses whose only crime is a zeal for science.
But they may have the last word yet.
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Reuters' man in Johannesburg Ed Stoddard isn't breaking news, though the stuff in the article was certainly news to me. He points out that a majority of Ethiopians and a large percentage of the population of the rest of Africa is Christian. With that in mind, he postulates that the answer to the 20-year-old question, to be be resurrected this year, "Do They Know It's Christmas?" is most likely yes.
Ed also makes the point that the beneficiaries of this year's Band Aid release, the mainly Muslim victims of the violence in Darfur, probably don't care too much about Christmas either way, what with all the genocide and everything.
I find the image of a bunch of British rock stars, especially Geldof, earnestly writing a song about the starving mud people woefully ignorant the delight of Christmas really hilarious. It's very Kipling, "White Man's Burden." Add to that the tragicomic twist that the starving Africans are quite devout, and that the answer to their prayers for deliverance from their foodless hell comes in the oblivious form of Band Aid.
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Monday, November 15, 2004
One of the regulatory agency's specific complaints is that the commercials fail to mention the disorder Viagra treats -– erectile disfunction. Instead, it makes oblique reference to a man named "Wild Thing" who disappeared but is now back, presumably thanks to Viagra. The FDA claims that the ad's references to "Wild Thing" could be construed as meaning the drug will "resurrect the mysterious Sasquatch." According to the FDA's letter to Pfizer, the agency is "not aware of substantial evidence or substantial clinical experience demonstrating this benefit, though that would be amazing and wonderful, indeed."
The FDA's letter to Pfizer continued:
By showing images of men throwing footballs through tire swings, inserting steamed hot dogs into orchid blooms, or thrusting their forefingers in and out of a circle formed by the thumb and forefinger of their other hand over and over, spots advertising Viagra competitors like Cialis make it very clear that they're intended to prepare a penis for insertion into a receptacle of the user's choosing.
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And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since and lost awhile.
-- John Henry Newman
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Friday, November 12, 2004
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Thursday, November 11, 2004
There are the people who spend a lot of time and energy waving their arms, jumping up and down screaming, "How could you put the body of your 8-year-old foster child, who's blind and suffers from cerebral palsy, into a garbage bag and leave it on the curb with the rest of your trash?" These people wring their hands, moan and groan, and they'll wonder how God let it happen. Bo. Ring.
Then there's Renee Johnson. She sees what a mess God made of the girl, what with the blindness and CP and diabetes and lack of real parents and everything else, and she takes care of His mess. No need to ask, no need to nag.
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A bit like Charles in drag, innit?
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Wednesday, November 10, 2004
This is a day of vindication not only for her parents, who began second-guessing the wisdom of Montessori school long ago, but also for her high school drama teacher, who's known since her turn as Tzeitel in Fiddler that she'd amount to, um, something. It is vindication for the internship director at Spin, who's always sworn you could cockgobble your way to the top, but could never before offer proof, and for me, who's tried again and again to get cockgobbled on somebody's way to the top, always in vain, and who blamed it all on the Jews.
We were right. We were all right.
Now Ultragrrrl will take her rightful place in line with Nabakov, Dostoyevsky, Joyce, Kundera, Kafka, and Chabon instead of pulling a train of the bassist of Franz Ferdinand, the drummer of The Killers, the guitarist of The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, and whichever other members of trendy retro bands aren't too picky.
I've long suspected that the evolution of the American novel would involve the synthesis of a free weekly newspaper's "Upcoming Events" calendar and the diary of a loose-moraled 14-year-old girl searching for daddy's love in the trousers of anybody androgynous in the proximity of an instrument.
Finally I have a reason to wear that vintage "A Wicked Case of Chlamydia and All I Got Was This Lousy Book Deal" t-shirt and another reason not to read.
As if I needed one.
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Tuesday, November 09, 2004
To those people, I say that I respectfully disagree. Consider this: I enjoy watching an adult movie from time to time. Shocking, I know, but it's true. And occassionally, before I do so, I like to treat myself to a bit of marijuana, or even some delightful crack cocaine. When I'm feeling particularly indulgent, I might even choose to cap off my evening by spoiling myself with a half and half from one of my local red light district's less cost-prohibitive streetwalkers.
I know, I'm a bit of a bon vivant.
But that's not my point. The delightful porn star, so eager to take two in the dumper and one in the mouth; the drug dealer who cheerfully slings me my rock, and at rock bottom prices; the two-bit whore kind enough to remove her dentures before finishing me off -- these people didn't happen by accident.
If everyone's parents lived long enough to see them learn to ride a two-wheeler, these important jobs might go undone. And that, people of America and the world, is something I hope I don't live long enough to see.
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Monday, November 08, 2004
Scott Peterson, shown above, was shocked to discover he had no moustache Monday.
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Friday, November 05, 2004
And it is because I am just that I call bullshit on the latest Michael Jackson molestation lawsuit. Sure, it would be easy to make a joke at the Diddlin' One's expense, but there's nothing funny about being wrongly accused of the things this lawsuit alleges: "harmful or offensive contact with an intimate part" of someone's body, including "cutting with a razor blade," "puncturing the chest with steel wire," "biting," and forcing a person to "consume mood-altering substances." Believe me, I know.
Carefully examination of the charges reveals that 20 years ago when the incidents allegedly occurred the accuser was 18. First off, we know that Michael simply isn't interested in men that old. Secondly, 20 years ago Michael was roughly 25. I refuse to believe that there's an 18-year-old man anywhere in the world physically incapable of fighting off unwanted sexual contact from Michael Jackson that isn't a midget or quadriplegic.
And finally, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I submit the following: Where I come from there's a name for an 25-year-old forcing an 18-year-old to do drugs and then cutting his genitals with a razor blade -- "Hazing." It's fun, it builds character, and it's what makes America great. And, sure, it's kind of hot, but if sexy is a crime, then send me to the chair.
Michael Jackson, umbrellaed above, is guilty of nothing but good, clean fun involving razor blades, wire, and genitals.
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Welcome to the Bush Administration, Mark II: Targeting Foes At Home and Abroad.
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Thursday, November 04, 2004
If a ticket consisting of John McCain and Rudy Giuliani win the 2008 election, I win $100. If the Republican party splinters and a third party, consisting of neo-conservative evangelicals, puts a ticket topped with someone like Pat Buchanan on the ballot and gets at least 5% of the popular vote in 2008, he wins $100.
I'm not saying I'm going to win, but I know I'm not going to lose.
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When faced with four more years, "running, naked, full-speed" toward a plane leaving for Australia seems kind of logical.
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Wednesday, November 03, 2004
One time I was having sex with a woman. I gazed down to behold her impossible beauty, to see her face racked with unspeakable ecstasy. When my eyes settled on her, that's not what I found, however. She looked back at me with equal parts disdain, disinterest, and displeasure. I realized at that moment that my ministrations were perhaps not what she'd hope they'd be. In an effort to assuage her, I said, "If you think this is bad, you should sleep with your sister!"
It didn't seem to make her feel any better.
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Goodbye...
...to safe, legal abortions.
...to probable cause and the right to legal representation.
...to the right to privacy.
...to the gay rights movement.
...to all the money I've paid into social security.
...to the environment.
...to a secular society.
...to the freedom of speech.
...to America, the sole superpower.
Hello...
...to all the justice only money can buy.
...to the best medical care only money can buy.
...to the best education only money can buy.
...to a thriving black market in abortions.
...to a national "brain drain."
...to the draft.
...the Department of Homeland Security, currently listening in.
...to China, the sole superpower.
I hope the evangelicals responsible for keeping Bush in office are right, and that America is indeed God's "city on a hill," because He's the only one that can help us now.
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Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Hi! How's it going? It's been, like, forever. How are you? Tell me everything!
Things are going pretty good on this end. I don't know if you heard I moved, but I did, and I really like the new place. It's bigger, and I don't have downstairs neighbors anymore, which is awesome. Other than that, not much to report. A little bit of gray in the beard, but still fucking sexy, you know? Seriously.
I feel a little awkward about this, especially since we haven't been all that close since, like, ever, but I was really hoping you could do me a favor and make sure Kerry gets elected. I know you're probably getting all kinds of shit from the Bush people, but you know as well as I do those people aren't thinking right. I mean, I know you like to do things on the down low and it's not like I want you to blow your cover and hit him with lightning or anything. But really, dude. I think we've all learned our lesson. Especially the Iraqis. And all the Arabs, I guess. And gays and blacks. And not rich people.
Anyway, just keep it in mind, you know? And give me a shout when you're out in this neck of the woods... we'll grab a beer or whatever.
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Monday, November 01, 2004
For those of you who can't read, Dan Brown is the fabulously wealthy author of the best-selling erotic thriller The DaVinci Code. Well, not only is he the biggest thing to hit publishing since Shel Silverstein, it turns out he's a generous believer in the importance of education -- he recently donated a whopping 2.2 million dollars to his alma mater. That's "former high school" in Greek.
I'd like to be the first to congratulate Brown on his largesse, but considering all of the glad-handing ass-lickers in the book business, I'd speculate I'll have to settle for being one voice in a back-slapping chorus. Dan Brown's gift will do one heck of a lot more for the poor students of his beloved Phillips Exeter Academy than purchase the "computers" and "other high tech equipment" for which it's intended. It'll do more than the students' fabulously wealthy and connected parents or Exeter's mind-boggling half billion dollar endowment can do. It will say, "I believe in you, and I wrote The DaVinci Code."
Truly, no Exeter child will be left behind.
And to those who suggest that Brown's 2.2 million dollar gift, which was symbolic to Exeter at best, would have been much more meaningfully spent in any of this nation's crumbling and impoverished public schools, I say: "You mean the ones with the blacks in them? Gross."
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Like so much of the bullshit that passes for news these day, the article is really just an anecdote about some freaky little girl. Again and again the author returns to the fact that cafeteria workers at her school put ice cubes in Ashlyn's chili. This is done because, as she cannot feel heat or cold, she could burn herself by eating hot food too quickly. There's nothing newsworthy about ice in the chili -- it's just a convenient shorthand for saying to us: "Aren't you glad you don't have ice in your chili?"
I ask you this: Shouldn't we demand that our news be actual news, not cloying anecdotes that make a freak of a 5-year-old girl?
I also ask you this: Isn't there a way to cool down chili without putting ice cubes in it? Like, waiting to serve it until steam is no longer visible or putting it in the fridge for a few seconds? She might not be able to tell hot chili from cold, but I'm sure she knows watery chili when she tastes it.
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