It is a pastoral sport, man. The famous Dead Comedian George Carlin did a whole "Baseball vs. Football" routine, wherein he made clear the Militaristic Theme of Football vs. the Lovely Day in The Park Theme of Baseball, so you can go and Google that shit while I ask the Rhetorical Question: Why the fuck are they always trying to make the Baseball like Football? Can't we have stuff be different? I have attended and enjoyed Football games and it's usually way fucking colder than I would like it to be and everybody is all amped in the fullest non-military expression of Militaristic Society, and that's the Football, man, bring a Pocket Flask, all kindsa Greco-Roman Weirdness, people hollering with painted faces, screaming, "Tailgating" with Feverish Consumption of Mass Quantities of alco-beverage, Roasting of various Meats, lotsa BAMARAMARAMARAMARAMARAMA, and vomiting in the parking lot. Good Times, man, seriously. It all makes sense in the Gladiatorial Empire of a sport that celebrates the Big Game with Roman Numerals, totally fucking awesome, man, just don't get your Football in my Baseball, OK?
A variety of factors including the confickr virus, making facebook pages at the behest of creationists, rummaging though trash bins for used air conditioners and tea-bagging have put severe limits on my time. Maybe something more later this week, but for now enjoy this video from the whitest kids you know.
Just wanted to point out that white-boy rapper Asher Roth in that clip went to West Chester university. So his most popular song I love college is presumably about partying on Walnut Street and maybe even 15 North, if he was lucky. According to newsroom sources the guy even made an appearance at a recent local council meeting requesting the borough shut down a couple blocks on 4/20 for his CD release party. Request was denied, and he had it at Bam Margera's bar. West Chester is a veritable hotbed of culture (not really).
And in Rick Ross news, how about a NYTimes review of the new album, which includes passages like this:
And what a relief that is. Like all great pop music, rap is theater, and Rick Ross, now 33, is one of its most ambitious characters. He arrived fully formed in the summer of 2006: the busting-out gut, the outsize presence, the scratchy voice, the always-there sunglasses. At worst he was a Young Jeezy clone, spewing empty drug talk in comically repetitive fashion. At best he was an utterly believable and improbably charming exponent of the cocaine-rap making the rounds at the time. Clipse may have done it with more technical precision, and Jeezy with more magnetism, but Mr. Ross sounded in charge, his voice a gravelly threat.
In an effort to type a bunch of words that actually "make sense", I'm scrapping a post I was struggling with (class warfare! exciting!) and just doing another DVD rundown. That other post will probably make an appearance later, if only to make use of the awesome pictures I found. Anyway, here are some more films sent to me through the miracle of the U.S. Mail.
Blue Velvet
Why is Cavil lip-synching Roy Orbison? Who knows, but that clip sums up the creepy vibe that permeates this movie. Also, the early scene where the camera moves through grass until it reveals disgusting bugs. I've avoided David Lynch films since I was terrified by the worms in Dune at a young age. Watching this I realized I'm kind of glad I did, but at the same time I want to see some more of his stuff. Call it morbid curiosity for lack of a better term. Blue Velvet's certainly worth seeing, if only for the awesome performance by Dennis Hopper as Frank Booth. Lines like: "Heineken! Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon!" make me want to a devote a whole post to it. Which I may. Candy colored clown indeed.
A Boy and His Dog As if Blue Velvet wasn't strange enough. This 1975 sci-fi flick is set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, following a young Don Johnson and his wise-cracking intelligent dog that communicates with him telepathically. They have a mutually beneficial relationship in which Johnson finds food for the dog, and the dog finds women for Johnson to rape. Eventually after falling in love with a girl while hiding from zombies, Johnson ditches his dog friend to follow the girl to an underground fascistic society where everyone has on clown/mime makeup. And then things get really weird. This movie has a jaw-dropping surprise ending.
Punisher: War Zone This movie is fucking awful, but still better than the first Punisher. There's a part where the Punisher puts a chair leg through some guys face. Also it has Newman from Seinfeld playing a nerd, and McNulty from The Wire plays the horribly make-upped bad guy.
RocknRolla The latest from Guy Ritchie is what you expect, in that its about the criminal element in England, with overlapping plotlines and a dark comedic streak. Although at times it seems like they are just making it up as they go along. Not as good as Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, maybe comparable to Snatch.
The Last Detail Jack Nicholson and some other guy are Naval men charged with transporting a young seaman to prison for a trivial offense. They decide to show the guy, played by a young Randy Quaid, one last good time along the way -- meaning lots of drinking, fighting and fucking. This is a classic road movie, know what I mean?
Sex Drive You might remember the previews for this one because they had a talking Mexican donut (which actually factors a good bit into the plot). It's a boilerplate road/teen-sex comedy highlighted by an appearance by Seth Green as a sarcastic Amishman.
Hard Boiled Great action movie? Or Greatest Action movie? The main character's name is Tequila for christsake.
The Wackness This is a coming of age tale, set in the 90s in New York City. The best part about it is the music, tons of great old-school hip hop. This is the movie where Ben Kingsley plays a pot-smoking psychiatrist, who at one point makes out with an Olsen twin.
Zack and Miri Make a Porno This is probably my favorite Seth Rogen movie ever, even better than Donnie Darko (He's the guy who says, "So I heard your dad, like, stabbed your mom." and "I like your boobs." Classy.) But Observe and Report looks promising, being directed by the Eastbound and Down guy and drawing comparisons to Taxi Driver somehow. I think I watched Zack and Miri not sober, because I don't remember much of what happens. For some reason I'm confusing the high school reunion scenes with those from Grosse Point Blank. Anyway, I do remember that this movie is laugh out loud hilarious.
Gosford Park Speaking of class warfare, there's this ensemble production directed by Robert Altman set at a mansion party in the English countryside. Arguably the best film on this list. Both the well-to-do and the servants who serve them are well-developed characters in a carefully plotted murder-mystery.
Repo Man Something about aliens living in the trunk of a car and Emilio Estevez.
That's it, I'm off to enjoy the 80 degree temperatures this weekend.
In other news, it figures that the day I actually have an idea for a thoughtful post I am swamped with "work" at my "job" but hopefully it'll get up here sooner or later.
The best thing about this chart is using your imagination to anthropomorphize these news organizations a la schoolhouse rock. Who doesn't like to imagine the NY Post repeatedly kicking the back of the NY Daily News' chair? Not too mention the sitcom-level hilarity of NPR and the Washington Times sitting next to each other. Ho ho, they are quite the odd couple those two. Good thing Helen Thomas is there as the lovable granny who keeps everyone in line.
Image gratuitously stolen a month and a half ago from the nerds at fivethirtyeight.com.
I sure picked a good Sunday to be laid up on the couch with some sort of back strain (related to biking 50 miles in two days, to breweries?). Because all the day's sports results seemed to work out according to my tastes. Rather than try to construct a narrative, here's a list in reverse chronological order.
Sixers beat Orlando Some may have counted the Sixers out when they fell behind by 18 in the second half. Including me, because I fired up the sky level on Mario 3. But its a good thing to check in after some boot-related hijinks, because then you get to see an epic comeback capped by 18-foot contested fadaway from Andre Iguodala. I think FreeDarko put it best when they said he's "like a Youtube clip that eats and plays Wii" even though that makes little to no sense. Or does it? Also this is further proof that Superman sucks.
Phillies beat Padres If there is one thing to be determined from the first two weeks of the baseball season, its that Raul Ibanez has god-like powers. It's true, I just edited into his wikipedia page. You gotta appreciate any come from behind walk-off win, even if it is in April -- or as Skip (possibly Chip) Carey said, "If this was the NFL, we'd just be starting the fourth quarter of the first game." Relevance!
Flyers beat Penguins I just hope the Flyers can make it out of the first round so my annual "caring about the Flyers" period lasts longer than a week or so. Also apparently there is quite a rivalry between the Penguins, probably the biggest Philly-Pittsburgh sports fan feud. Still, I think its setting the bar a bit low.
Manchester United loses to Everton in FA Cup Can't forget the schadenfreude. I know most of you don't care a bit about English football, but here's some perspective. This year the Red Devils, as they are called, were going for something called the "quintuple" or five separate trophies, which is totally absurd. They are the Yankees times 10 in their hubris. This loss knocks them down a peg, in that the quintuple is no longer possible. That the loss came by Everton is a bonus because they are a like-able squad. They have this guy, and are Paul McCartney's team of choice.
A brief linky consideration while watching something called Werder Bremen vs. Udinese Calcio. The UEFA Cup is neither relevant nor exciting (for soccer). Where is the marking indeed, announcer whose accent I can't place. Argentinean?
I'm not sure if I've ever linked to Hey Okay before, but its my go to place for some random visuals, on occasion. Also good is Eat Sleep Draw. Both should probably be in the sidebar, but I'm too lazy and forgetful. It's a deadly combination.
Hey look, Bush torture memos. Somebody read them and tell me what they say, cause I sure as hell ain't reading some grainy-ass PDFs on HuffPo. If there is one thing Ariana Huffington knows, its that the kids love them their PDFs.
Here's a pretty awesome Inside Edition piece on Nintendo from 1988. Make your Bill O'Reilly joke of choice below. PLAY IT LIVE!
You know, if you are going to protest "taxes" by dressing up like a tighty-whiteyed President Obama, you better be sure to bring an inflatable Elmo to clarify your message.
I had never heard of David Foster Wallace before he hung himself last fall. Upon his death I read a bunch about him from various sources, and a few of his essay's available online. That whet my appetite, but I doubted that jumping into his work with the epic-long novel "Infinite Jest" was the best idea. So I went to the local bookstore to see what was available, hoping for either this collection of nonfiction pieces or Consider the Lobster. This is what they had.
Wallace's style takes some getting used to. The prose is as good as it gets, but the advanced vocabulary and numerous lengthy footnotes can be tricky. But where else can you read an essay on the Illinois State Fair that uses the word "rictus" not once but twice. That essay, along with the titular piece in which Wallace takes a Caribbean cruise are the clear highlights of this book. But it also includes five others including an analysis of David Lynch's Lost Highway, a trip to the Canadian Open (Wallace was big into tennis), and an article about television that I quoted before.
It's a hilarious book, particularly when Wallace immerses himself in Americana. He's a bit of an elitist, but the elitism is grounded in a kind of self-concious earnest voice. And that voice has got a hell of a way with words. The state fair expo is a "Xanadu of chinzola." His bathroom on the cruise ship is "bitchingly nice." A tropical moon is "a sort of obscenely large and dangling lemon." I could go on and on with this stuff. In fact, just for the hell of it, here's a couple grafs gratuitously copy-pasted from some random blog found by googling "xanadu of chintzola":
Booth after booth. A Xanadu of chintzola. Obscure non-stick cookware. "EYE GLASSES CLEANED FREE." A booth with anti-cellulite sponges. More DIPPIN DOTS futuristic ice cream. A woman with Velcro straps on her shoes gets fountain-pen ink out of a linen tablecloth with a Chapsticky-looking spot remover whose banner says "AS SEEN ON 'AMAZING DISCOVERIES,'" a wee-hour infomercial I'm kind of a fan of. A plywood booth that for $9.95 will take a photo and superimpose your face on either an FBI Wanted poster or a Penthouse cover. An MIA--BRING THEM HOME! booth staffed by women playing Go Fish. An anti-abortion booth called LIVESAVERS that lures you over with free candy. Sand Art. Shredded-Ribbon Art. Therm-L-Seal Double Pane Windows. An indescribable booth for "LATEST ADVANCE ROTARY NOSE HAIR CLIPPERS" whose other sign reads (I kid you not) "Do Not Pull Hair From Nose, May Cause Fatal Infection." Two different booths for collectible sports cards, "Top Ranked Investment Of The Nineties." And tucked away back on one curve of the mezzanine's ellipse: yes: black velvet paintings, including several of Elvis in pensive poses.
And people are buying this stuff. The Expo's unique products are targeted at a certain type of Midwestern person I'd all but forgotten. I'd somehow not noticed these persons' absence from the paths and exhibits. This is going to sound not just East-Coastish but elitist and snotty. But facts are facts. The special community of shoppers in the Expo Bldg. are a Midwestern subphylum commonly if unkindly known as Kmart People. Farther south they'd be a certain fringe-type of White Trash. Kmart People tend to be overweight, polyestered, grim-faced, toting glazed unhappy children. Toupees are the movingly obvious shiny square-cut kind, and the women's makeup is garish and often asymmetrically applied, giving many of the female faces a kind of demented look. They are sharp-voiced and snap at their families. They're the type you see slapping their kids in supermarket checkouts. They are people who work at like Champaign's Kraft and Decatur's A. E. Staley and think pro wrestling is real. I'm sorry, but this is all true. I went to high school with Kmart People. I know them. They own firearms and do not hunt. The aspire to own mobile homes. They read the Star without even a pretense of contempt and have toilet paper with little off-color jokes printed on it. A few of these folks might check out the Tractor Pull or U.S.A.C. race, but most are in the Expo to stay. This is what they've come for. They couldn't give one fat damn about ethanol exhibits or carnival rides whose seats are hard to squeeze into. Agriculture shmagriculture. And Gov. Edgar's a closet pinko: they heard it on Rush. They plod up and down, looking put out and intensely puzzled, as if they're sure what they've come for's got to be here someplace. I wish Native C. were here; she's highly quotable on the subject of Kmart People. One big girl with tattoos and a heavy-diapered infant wears a T-shirt that says "WARNING: I GO FROM 0 TO HORNEY IN 2.5 BEERS."
RIP. As much as I want to toss up the Old School quote, I just can't. There are some things even I won't mock the day they happen, and the death of Harry Kalas is apparently one of them. It's difficult and sad, almost like the death of a grandparent. Except it was millions of peoples grandparent. Listening all the announcers voices cracking during today's game fills me with despair like a memorial facebook.
Longtime baseball announcers enjoy a special place in the collective regional consciousness. For generations of Philadelphia fans, Kalas will always be the voice of the game. Think Harry Caray or Vin Scully. Hopefully the Phils don't construct some bizarre statue of Kalas rising from the depths of hell like the Cubs did with Caray.
So old that he has to use his bat as a cane after hitting game-winning home runs. Also the Denver altitude makes him tired with its thin air.
That game plus a thrilling end to the Masters (for golf) plus a delicious dinner of kung pao chicken and crab rangoon (burrito plans were foiled by holiday hours) equals the best Easter ever. He is risen, etc.
To commemorate the start of the baseball regular season, here's something for every team. We can only hope for the same level of prognostic success I had in forecasting the last season of The Wire.
AL East Tampa Bay Rays - Promising future for young, talented team ends in tragedy when bandwagon fans take next logical step from "rayhawks" and start scalping opposing fans. Baltimore Orioles - Finally bounce back from retirement of Cal Ripken 8 years ago to finish fourth in division. Boston Red Sox - Red Sox Nation finally gains the sovereignty it has worked so long and hard for after the battle of Lowell. Toronto Blue Jays - How about that Roy Halladay? He'd look good on whatever team you happen to root for, eh? New York Yankees - Miss playoffs for second straight year because "Yankee mystique" was based on old stadium, not stocking roster with overpriced frauds.
AL Central Cleveland Indians - Continue to sell out home games regularly, because what the hell else are you going to do in Cleveland. Chicago White Sox - Owner Jerry Reinsdorf ignores conventional wisdom to hold a 30-year anniversary event dubbed "Disco Demolition Night 2: The Breakening" Minnesota Twins - Commemorate final year of the Metrodome by having another solid season of above .500 baseball based on strong fundamental play. Detroit Tigers - Magglio Ordonez finally learns Brandon Inge's name, but still calls him bendejo. Kansas City Royals - Just glad baseball has not yet adopted the European soccer concept of "relegation" in which the three worst teams are sent down to a lower echelon league.
AL West Oakland A's - Jack Cust hits 30 home runs to the delight of fantasy baseball owners. Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim - Chone Figgins gets the 73 singles he needs to pass Bobby Grich for seventh place on the team's all-time list. Seattle Mariners - In strange case of life almost imitating art, Ken Griffey Jr. forced to retire due to radiation poisoning. Texas Rangers - Tom Hicks is impeached as owner of the team because of war crimes, and George W. Bush takes over.
NL East Philadelphia Phillies - Worst record ever for World Series champion tempered by every win coming in absurd, 7-run behind fashion. Atlanta Braves - Management makes critical error of underestimating the importance of Mike Hampton. New York Mets - Another September collapse, this time with more hilarious crying. Florida Marlins - Crack researchers finally crack the code of why anyone would think playing baseball in July in South Florida is a good idea. The answer may surprise you. Washington Nationals - Promotional tie-in day for new slugger Adam Dunn based on nickname "Big Donkey" goes horribly awry.
NL Central Chicago Cubs - Win World Series. Ha ha, just kidding, actually Lou Piniella will have a heart attack mid-season when Alfonso Soriano asks him how to bunt. Milwaukee Brewers - Prince Fielder's vegetarian diet gains popularity in Wisconsin, surpassing that of former culinary leader Jeffrey Dahmer. St. Louis Cardinals - Albert Pujols suffers severe emotional damage from hecklers telling him to "put it in her Pujols" all season despite his wife's refusal to do anal. Houston Astros - That stupid ass train thing they have at their stadium derails, killing hundreds. Cincinnati Reds - Forgettable season highlighted only by Edwin Encarnacion dying his hair blond in an ill-conceived attempt to pick up the sexy ladies of Cincinnati. Pittsburgh Pirates - City unites behind team after pitcher Ian Snell dies in tragic smelting accident, only to forget about them once football preseason starts.
NL West Arizona Diamondbacks - Ride strong pitching and situational hitting to another division title, even though they are all totally into dudes. Los Angeles Dodgers - Manny being Manny takes bizarre turn when outfielder tries to incorporate his unrequited love of Miley Cyrus into fielding fly balls. San Francisco Giants - Fans, management wistfully remember the Will Clark era. San Diego Padres - Effort to reach out to the nearby Naval Base doesn't work as well as planned due to unfortunate misspelling in ad campaign dubbed "Balls with Seamen." Colorado Rockies - Kaz Matsui gets in trouble with team, stadium sponsor when a picture of him shotgunning a can of Milwaukee's Best surfaces on the internet.
Productivity here this week plus factors means I'm not posting for a minute, or day. You have such things to look forward to as a David Foster Wallace Book Club, some ill-defined post on sports fandom that may or may not ever see the light of day, perhaps a dissertation on the nature of blogs vs. other media, or baseball. Til then, enjoy this trailer made better by Arcade Fire.
The countless hours that drivers waste stuck in traffic when they could engage in more productive activities like watching television is one of my chief concerns. Often times I lie in bed at night, unable to sleep due to the crippling traffic problems that plague our cities. Why doesn't someone invent a smaller, two-wheeled vehicle that theoretically existing drivers could use to get to their jobs that also exist? This is the question that haunts me day and night.
And once again it seems our friends and beneficiaries at General Motors have their respective fingers on my neck, and thus on the pulse of the American motorist. This week they unveiled a new vehicle sure to revolutionize the way one gets around in a city. Dubbed the Personal Urban Mobility and Accessibility project or PUMA, it seems destined to fill the hole in U.S. transportation industry left by the inexplicable failure of the Segway, which is a partner in this enterprise.
It figures that it would take teetering on the brink of bankruptcy for a Detroit automaker to finally get its act together and embrace the gyroscope technology that has long eluded them, despite public clamoring. Everything I've read on PUMAs is exciting and innovative, sure to cut to the quick of hip city-dwellers who don't get theirs on the very first day they become available. A veritable iPhone of the road.
So GM, to you I extend a salute and hearty handshake. May you be successful beyond your wildest dreams in this new endeavor. I don't see how it could possibly go wrong. There simply aren't any other two-wheeled options available for urban commuters who want to travel just outside walking distance. And no, I'm not forgetting the rickshaw, I just think that the time of a man pulling another man on a cart has come and gone.
Perhaps the above video isn't as iconic or classic the meta-cultural I'm on a Boat, but for my money it's funnier. Plus the lower production values. Maybe my preference lies in that Rick Ross' boss-like nature pleases me. Whatever the reason, the video is a good example of the "Lonely Island esthetic" if such a term deserves to exist. The Lonely Island is a comedy group including Andy Samberg and two other guys, they just released some album.
Another example: Hot Rod has been on cable a lot lately. Surprisingly watchable, although I can't figure where it stands on the comedy spectrum. There is a high level of absurdity and satire, which are traditionally associated with high, sophisticated laughs. But the absurd elements tend to be extremely stupid and low -- for example there's a punch-dancing montage, a taco fights a sandwich, and (spoiler) Al Swearengen shits himself.
Here, of course, is where the ultra-right and ultra-left unwittingly crash into each other, when Communism becomes Fascism, or communes giving way to cults. I doubt it ever works the other way—a sinister consolidation of power and crushing of all opposition giving way to egalitarian sunshine and light? But certainly, the nexus is both unlikely and potential ammunition for both sides, even if it's that moment where you look across the battlefield and realize your enemy is human. We all want the same thing, sometimes.
Submitted for your consideration and my catharsis: Which is "worse" -- that 4 Fast 4 Furious dominated its opening box office weekend, or that the World Fucking Champion Philadelphia Phillies were booed in the second inning of their home opener. Both upset me on an an vaguely guttural level. Let's just lay out what's wrong.
4 Fast 4 Furious is a successful movie Yes I know that isn't technically the name of the "film." But Jesus H. tap-dancing Christ, you cannot simply add/remove the articles from a film title, and expect not to be mocked. It has got to be some kind of rule. I thought I lived in a world where there was no possibility of a movie called The Batman. Now I'm not so sure. It's probably true that 4F4F (terrible) has plenty of thrills, spills and probably kills. Still, as one reviewer said, "The plot is utterly incomprehensible, but the legions of street racing fans hopped up on NOS and Full Throttle energy drink aren't going to care." Ha ha energy drinks, ZING. This flick is just one more step in the dumbing down of the American cineplex, where mediocre drivel is hailed as groundbreaking. Also, it means the continued viability of both Vin Diesel and Paul Walker as "film actors," a tragedy in its own right.
Phillies booed THEY JUST FUCKING WON THE WORLD SERIES YOU DUMB ASSHOLES. THE FIRST CHAMPIONSHIP IN THIS TOWN SINCE 1893 OR SOME SHIT. THAT BUYS SOME SORT OF GRACE PERIOD, YOU CUNTS. THERE ARE 162 GAMES IN A BASEBALL SEASON. THIS ISN'T YOUR PRECIOUS EAGLES. LOOK ON THE GODDAMN BRIGHT SIDE OF SOMETHING, FOR ONCE IN YOUR PATHETIC, GREEDY LIVES. Indeed. Anyone want to start a vacation travel service to go boo Donovan McNabb in his daily off-season activities? It would be a gold mine.
In conclusion: I'm going to see/do both of these things very soon, and will enjoy them. It's a race to the bottom and Ima gonna win.
Here's a case of life imitating art: Skinner: Well, I was wrong. The ants are a godsend. Lisa: But isn't that a bit short-sighted? What happens when we're overrun by ants? Skinner: No problem. We simply release wave after wave of Chinese needle snakes. They'll wipe out the ants. Lisa: But aren't the snakes even worse? Skinner: Yes, but we're prepared for that. We've lined up a fabulous type of gorilla that thrives on snake meat. Lisa: But then we're stuck with gorillas! Skinner: No, that's the beautiful part. When winter rolls around, the gorillas simply freeze to death.
How about this thing: Kid's internet toy, or crazy acid experience? You be the judge.
I highly recommend checking out the Norm McDonald monologue from the ESPY's back in 1998, which was posted Deadspin yesterday. Ho ho, Anthony Mason is a statutory rapist.
Don't mess with teenage mutant ninja turtle fans who are interns at The Onion, cause if you do, they will send you harshly worded letters.
That's it for now, maybe I'll add some more stuff this afternoon, but I doubt it.
And then the robots became self aware, signifying the beginning of the end for humanity. First baker's yeast, then the Matrix or Skynet. It's science.
Well it seems my earlier confusion and dismay regarding LOST was a bit premature. It seems that you can't just jump in and watch this stuff. Because as this season has chugged along it has become steadily more engrossing, and then BAM! you get one like last week's Sayid-centric "He's Our You" that blows any and all doors completely off. Revelations galore, mostly related to the relationship between everyone's favorite back-stabbing weasel with the creepy stare, Ben Linus, and good-old Tortury McMurderer, Sayid.
This is what I want in television: Something that makes you think. Like when Ben says to Sayid "It's what you are, you are a killer." Does Sayid think about that when he's interacting with the pre-teen Ben back in the 70s? I assume so, especially when he shoots him. That little cliffhanger had many a viewer highly anticipating what would be resolved this week, if anything.
Unfortunately it was with a Kate episode. Sure Evangeline Lilly does a good job emoting after having her stolen child go missing in a grocery store, but I can't watch her without the suspecting that her best work may have been in phone sex commercials. Not as embarrassing as Liz Lemon, but still.
Where was I? Oh right, Lost. I'm not going to get too deep, because frankly, who cares? It's a TV show, and there are already countless online resources. But I will say Hurley as audience proxy was in fine form last night, asking all the right questions, wondering when he would start disappearing a la Back to the Future, etc. It helps a labrynthine show to have a character offering some sort of voice for the viewer. Makes me feel less like I am watching a live action Escher painting.
There are many evils in this world: Terrible desert wars, godless communist presidents, pyromaniac rapists, rap music, and drug-abusing abortionists. It can be quite scary out there on Earth, in "real life." Shadowy, inconceivable bogeymen lurk around each and every corner, often baiting your kids into vile temptation with delicious candy.
Fortunately there was a man who understood the pains and ills of the world, and took it upon himself to forgive all of us for our awful acts of sin and malice. I am referring of course to the one and only man on the cross, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It's amazing the confidence and love one can instantly attain, simply by accepting this dead Jew into your heart. It's power could be described as unconditionally irrational.
Some mock those who have accepted God's love -- even in this very space, verily. They mock what they do not understand: That there is a plan for all of us. Some are more noble than others, but anyone can earn their place at the Lord's side. You might think killing heathens is somehow "better" than spreading The Word in devoutly-atheist internet forums, but killers don't risk virtual humiliation and banishment. Plus, if even one person opens up to God, your online evangelizing was a success.
Those that do not accept Jesus' love will soon be smited, and hard. I had a vision last night that the end times are nigh. It was a guy in a skeleton costume riding a donkey, which I can only assume signifies the four horsemen will soon be making their charge. Also there was a talking dog. Although it didn't move its mouth so maybe it was communicating with telepathy. The bottom line is all true believers will soon be called home to be with their Lord in Heaven, and those who deny God's love will be left behind. So get out there and spread the Good News.
