More Over The Top Than Over The Top

I had a chance to watch Oliver Stone's magnum opus "biopic" W over the weekend, and all I can say is "wow". (And not in a good way.) I wasn't expecting Stone to give former (current, at the time of the movie's release) President Bush the Fox News treatment, or even fair and balanced treatment, especially in view of how he handled the subject of Richard Nixon in 1995 (suggesting, among other potentially libelous allegations, that Nixon was complicit with J.R. Ewing and a sketchy Cuban exile in JFK's assassination). But with W, Stone takes the cartoonish characterizations even further, and his cast is only too happy to indulge him. The worst offender has to be Richard Dreyfuss, as Dick Cheney. The real Cheney comes across in his media and public appearances as, well, a real Dick. Dreyfuss, on the other hand, is about as menacing as Shirley Temple, and he knows it, and so he snarls and sneers his way through the film and ends up looking like a Saturday Night Live parody character, rather than a serious portrayal. Add to that a series of events that just aren't supported by facts, and you end up with a film that even people who voted for Nancy Pelosi can't possibly take seriously. Oh, it's a good watch for unintentional laughs, like the Leprechaun series or Karate Kid III. But if that sort of laugh isn't your cup of tea, then stay far, far away.

Love Me Some Love Handles

Apparently, not only does being grossly overweight not only enable you to stop a nuclear meltdown in progress, but it also makes you bulletproof as well. I particularly love the article's ending quote from the shooting victim:

"I want to be as big as I can if it's going to stop a bullet."

This woman misses the point on two levels: first, unless she lives in the ghetto-y-est ghetto in Florida, she's far more likely to die from a heart attack, stroke, or diabetes than she is to ever get shot again. More to the point, if she got shot in the side fat, take away that side fat and that bullet misses altogether. With this level of cluelessness, I don't know whether to laugh at or weep for humanity. I guess it's a little of both at the same time.

How To Watch The Vancouver Olympics

Unlike the glorified track meet that comes around every four summers, I'm actually watching a fair amount of the Vancouver Olympics. Of course, with multiple channels devoted to coverage and lots of simultaneous events, I've had to create a system to prioritize my viewing. Here's my keys to winter Olympic viewing nirvana.

1. I'll watch my top-tier sports (hockey, curling) over my middle-tier sports (any kind of sled racing) over my lower-tier sports (skiing/speed skating/snowboarding).
2. If there's multiple sports from a single tier on, I'll watch a medal round over a round robin/preliminary round. If that can't break the tie, I'll watch Team USA over two international teams. If that fails, I'll watch a men's event over a women's event. (Sorry if that makes me sexist. Actually, no I'm not.)
   
3. If figure skating is the only thing on, I'll find something else to do. Seriously, I'd rather watch American Idol than that figure skating crap. And boy-oh-boy do I hate American Idol.

We're Doomed

Audiences depressed that Avatar isn't real

That's it, people, it's all over. I officially resign from the human race. I'm not sure which species I'm going to apply to for asylum yet, but I'm leaning toward "cat". I just have to increase my flexibility enough to be able to lick my own junk. Just to put it into perspective, as I write this, the headline for this story is sharing space with the Haiti earthquake and the prospect of over 100,000 deaths. If you're reading this, and you're suicidal because sci-fi isn't real, do the rest of us a favor and act on your urges, especially if you haven't yet reproduced. (And let's face it, that's the most likely scenario for anyone who's depressed because Avatar is make-believe.) Future generations will thank you for it.

Paying It Forward

Obama administration considering charging banks fees to recoup bailout funds

Apparently, whoever came up with this scheme doesn't understand how corporations work. They answer to their stockholders first, last, and always, and what's good for the stockholders is not to cheerfully pay these fees and leave everything else equal, taking the hit as a decrease in their bottom line. No, these types of fees get passed along to bank customers, with the end result being less money in taxpayer pockets. It's a way of raising taxes again without announcing, "Hey, everyone, we're raising taxes again!" Look, every dollar the government spends comes from one place: you and me (unless you're reading this from another country). Raising "fees" (government-speak for "taxes") to "recover" tax dollars spent on bailouts is just robbing Peter to pay Paul. The only way to truly "recover" the money without taking it out of the people's pockets is to cut spending--something that this administration doesn't seem to get yet.

Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright

A few random thoughts on the Tiger Woods situation, since it seems to have been the only story in the news since Thanksgiving:

• The blitz on this story can be explained with a single word: voyeurism. Stories just like this show up every day on websites like TMZ and WWTDD and don't get nearly the attention of this one. This is an excuse for "legitimate" sources like ESPN and CNN to delve into celebrity tabloidism. And it's also an excuse for straight guys to openly pay attention to one of these sexy stories under the guise of "it's in the sports page!" instead of surreptitiously cruising through Ann Landers and Dear Abby for something scandalous when their wife isn't looking.
• A hobby is something you do that's more fun than what you have to do for a living. Guys like me work in an office for a living and play golf as a hobby. Tiger plays golf for a living--of course he gets blown as a hobby.
• A young prodigy, in the spotlight from a young age, with a domineering father who forces him to miss childhood while he focuses on his talent, becoming one of the most popular, recognized figures in the world by the time he's 30--sound familiar? Tiger's lucky his vice is adult women and not his own amusement park filled with barnyard animals and young boys.

BCS

The economy's still in a recession, unemployment is still at 10%, there's still no health care reform, and we still haven't won in Iraq or Afghanistan. But don't worry, the House is spending their time and your money telling the NCAA how to run their postseason.

Think the current BCS system is bullshit and a playoff would be better? Then don't freaking watch. Don't watch the games, don't buy the gear proclaiming your school as the "national champion", in short, don't make the current system the most profitable way for the NCAA to do business. That's how to get something that's of no consequence in the long run done--not by our legislative branch spending their time and our money.

Silencing "The Voice of God"

Somehow, in all the media coverage surrounding Tiger Woods this weekend, this story seems to have been mostly ignored: Bob Sheppard has announced his retirement as the voice of the Yankees. Hardly a surprise--the man is 99 years old, after all--but he'll be missed. The man is a class act and a huge part of Yankee tradition--there's a reason why Derek Jeter uses a recording of Sheppard's voice for his walkup announcements at home. Thanks for the memories, Bob, and enjoy your retirement.

Good Riddance

Congratulations to Virginia for putting down the animal known as the D.C. Sniper, and only six years after his conviction. That's not sarcasm--these days, that's a pretty efficient timeline for death penalty states that aren't Texas. Kudos to outgoing governor Tim Kaine for deciding he might like to run for elective office again someday, and declining the clemency petition. And although it's a little late to give John Muhammed some parting advice, I'm going to do it anyway: maybe it's not such a good idea to shoot up the town where the nine people who have the very last word on whether you live or die call home.

Nothing Ventured Learned, Nothing Gained

Apparently, some elements of the extreme left didn't learn anything from Tuesday's gubernatorial elections. Just as the moderate-to-right element in this nation starts to reclaim some of the ground lost in 2008, the pinkos over at MoveOn.org are threatening to use their war chest to fund primary opponents for moderate Dems who don't vote for Premier Speaker Pelosi's health care bill tomorrow. Great idea, guys. Take away the advantage from people who mostly see things your way, and try to get some candidates out there who leave moderates no choice but to push the red button when they get into the voting booth. Do that, and just see how long your controlling majority lasts. I won't lose any sleep over self-inflicted foot wounds faced by the Dems, but I like to see the moderate element nurtured and grown within both parties. Without a viable third-party option in most areas, for many of us, the moderate is the preferable candidate regardless of affiliation. Compromise is king here in the good ol' U.S. of A.

27

Congratulations to my New York Yankees on their professional sports record 27th World Series championship! It's nice to walk around today basking in their reflected glory, getting congratulations from friends and coworkers for doing absolutely nothing. But along with the congratulations come the inevitable whines of "Duhr, you guys bought a championship with mercenary players, duhr." Really, genius? It's true, C.C. Sabathia, A.J. Burnett, Mark Teixeira, and Nick Swisher were all offseason pickups, and Chad Gaudin was acquired in a midseason trade, but every other starter--pitchers and position players alike--were either products of the Yankees farm system or have been with the team for four years or more. That's long enough for the mercenary stigma to wear off. Do the Yankees spend money on players? Sure. But in recent years, they've brought in just a few each year to supplement a strong core of players that they've developed themselves. So congratulations, Yankees. Enjoy a well-deserved victory.

Separated at birth?

Yeah, I said it. Tony Romo is dogshit. He has been for years. Like the aforementioned turd, turn up the heat, and he turns pale and starts to crumble. Like a nugget on the lawn, just apply a little pressure, and he falls all to pieces. From the fumbled point-after snap against Seattle in the '06 playoffs to just last weekend when he made Kyle Freakin' Orton look like Johnny Freakin' Unitas, this guy has never made the big play to win the big game. And yet the media is there, week in and week out, consistently ranking him in the top ten quarterbacks in the game. If that ranking is for the number of hot famous women he's banged, sure, he's right there behind Big Ben Roethlisberger. (I'll take Natalie Gulbis over Jessica Simpson any day of the week and twice on Sunday.) But in terms of actually playing in NFL games? He's halfway down the list, and that's on his good days. It's time for the sportswriters and talking heads to realize that this guy is not the second coming of Roger Staubach. The guy barely beat out an over-the-hill Drew Bledsoe to get the starting job in the first place. Hell, he barely beat out an over the hill Drew Henson to get the starting job in the first place. I'd say he's really the second coming of Ryan Leaf, but to be fair to Romo, he wasn't drafted in the first round (in fact, he wasn't drafted at all) and brought in as the savior of the franchise. Let's just call him the second coming of Elvis Grbac.