Wednesday, April 28

Table scraps:
:All he wanted to do was auction off his ex-wife's wedding dress on eBay to make enough money for some baseball tickets and beer. Instead, he got 5 million hits, invited as a guest on radio shows and a few marriage proposals.
::"Johnny Copface" is not a good name for an undercover police officer.
:::It's amazing how one url can capture the feelings of an entire political movement: http://www.johnkerryisadouchebagbutimvotingforhimanyway.com
::::Bombs away! First, from the Fashion Times They Are A-changin' Department, we have prom bombs. And then, from the Meet Your Meat Department, we have the weiner bomb. (You might note that the second story is written by Paul Pfeifer, who I'm sure has spent his life being compared to Paul Pfeiffer from The Wonder Years. Sorry, man.)

Open season on breaking stuff at Pottery Barn
The Pottery Barn has a special pot for Colin Powell, but it ain't a pretty one. The Secretary of State has been getting heat from the company ever since Bob Woodward's new book quoted Powell as saying, in a discussion with Bush about going to Iraq, that it would follow the "Pottery Barn rule" of "You break it, you own it." Here's a transcript from "Nightline:"

Ted Koppel: "The famous line, the 'Pottery Barn' line, which is a great line, you know, "You break it . . . " Powell: "Yeah, I've been hearing from Pottery Barn, though." Koppel: "I bet they liked it." Powell: "Well, no, they don't like it. In fact, Pottery Barn has the opposite policy. It's one of those urban legends that crept in . . . but Pottery Barn has made it clear that, as a corporate policy, if you drop it, and it's an accident, you do not have to pay for it. And I'm so glad, Ted, that you gave me an opportunity to correct the record, eliminate an urban legend and restore Pottery Barn's reputation."

At least they'll make great stunt doubles
The Marines are training a group of Iraqis to go on joint patrol with Americans, but from what it seems in this NY Times report, the training will only benefit Jerry Bruckheimer's next shoot-em-up action flick. Here's a taste:

The marines formed them up in two lines, the Iraqis crouching in action-movie style. One had the shoulder strap of his AK-47 assault rifle stretched across the muzzle. At a signal — "Yallah" from the Iraqis, "Let's go" from the marines — the Defense Corps men trotted toward a small cinder-block building, crouched by the door and strolled inside. "Bang! bang!" shouted the marines, simulating gunfire. "All clear," said the Iraqis, learning to make the marines' thumbs-up sign. "That's how it will go for now," said the marines' platoon commander, First Lt. Kealoha Stokes. Earlier, Lieutenant Stokes had told his volunteer interpreter, Khalid Thaner, 37, a music student from Detroit, that when the Iraqis went on patrol, "I need your opinion, if they're fighting or if they're running."

Hey lady, loosen up the grip on baby's crotch

Those baby's arms are open, and if it could talk, it would say, "Someone, anyone, take me away from these two women." And in fact, that's just what's about to happen, as 20/20 airs something akin to a reality show in which parents compete to adopt that little kid. Amazingly, for what may be the first time in the history of reality television, people are actually angry about it.

Welcome back, me!
Hi again. The good news is that I'm back, the bad news is that I might be pretty busy for the rest of the week. But even so, I promise to get a fair amount of updates in here, since I've been gone since late Friday. I spent the last few days in Florida, reminding myself of how much I hate hot weather. And funny enough, while I was down in Florida, my very first piece for the Boston Globe ran. (And the piece was so damn hot that it apparently set the Globe on fire.) I'll hopefully be doing some regular work for the paper, but for now, I'm very excited about my little debut.

On the upside of spending hours in the Florida heat, I spent some of them at Parrot Jungle Island, a legitimately enjoyable tourist trap. I learned a few interesting things there, thanks to an Australian employee named Jerry who volunteered to show a few of us around. He spewed out a lot of information, and since I know I'm going to forget most of it, I've resolved to remember two things in particular: one, a certain giant tortoise (I think it's a Galapagos tortoise, but honestly, I've already forgotten) can't die of old age because its cells keep splitting, and therefore its vital organs keep regenerating. The longest-lived tortoise on record is 188 years. And secondly, every primate colony has a "whipping-monkey" -- one of the primates in the colony, easily identified as the one all beaten and bruised -- and disputes between the colony leaders are often taken out on this one monkey. Not a fun life.

Friday, April 23

The Patriot Act is based on a lie
An absolutely fascinating report from the LA Times (part one and part two) revisits the Supreme Court's 1953 decision that laid the precedent for "state secrets" -- a privilege of the government's that allows it to take action and not reveal information related to that action, such as detaining a suspected terrorist without showing any actual proof that the person is a suspected terrorist. It all goes back to a case in which some men died in a military plane crash, and their widows sued under the premise that the government had recognized flaws in the plane but didn't implement them, thus making the government responsible. The widows wanted the accident report, which they said would prove the negligence. In response, the government said it had made no suggestions to boost the plane's safety, and that the accident report contained top-secret information that it could not release. Two lower courts ruled in the widows' favor, but the Supreme Court sided with the government, setting a precedent that the Bush administration has already officially used three times.

But nearly half a century later, when the accident reports were declassified, the daughter of one of the killed men discovered that the accident report contained no top-secret information, but plenty of wrong-doing on the government's part. The privilege of "state secrets," she found, is based on a lie. She tracked down people involved in the case in 1953, retained the same law firm that pushed it, and filed this case with the Supreme Court under the legal premise of righting past wrongs. The court declined to hear it. But this woman, Judy Palya Loether, said she's not done yet.

Table scraps:
:Doesn't this just sum up the Iraqi reconstruction plan, the relationship of the CIA and FBI, and really just about everything else? (You think that sounds boring? No. Click on that link. I implore you!)
::So here's the thing: are you in the birdcage or the bird? The gorilla or the cage? The rabbit or the hat? Nobody knows when you're using the self-described "most original entertainment and promotional innovation of the decade!"
:::Wow, here's a great catch: Talkingpointsmemo notices that the Iraqi Coalition Provisional Authority ripped off the website of the Brookings Institution.
::::Ever wonder about those signs at gas stations that tell you not to light a cigarette? Maybe some people wonder why they can't light up, but at least I -- ahem! -- wonder who would be dumb enough to do it. And the answer: this guy.

If you're going to screw up, do it well:
A University of Central Florida student was busted for lifting substantial parts of a Baltimore Sun story and plugging them into his own for the student newspaper, The Future.Two funny things come from this: One, the newspaper's name is The Future. What paper do you write for? I write for... the FUUTTTUURREEEEE. How very Doc Emmett Brown. And two, What's his excuse? That he wasn't sneaky enough. Here's the best graf in the Future's story about the incident:

In his defense, Riegel said the newspaper published an article that he identified after its publication as a draft forwarded by mistake. In writing that draft, Riegel described a work method that involved copying an e-mailed version of the Sun article and placing it in a computer file under his own byline, after which he intended to whittle it into something he could claim as his own - an enormous ethical lapse, the Future investigation concluded. In this instance, Riegel said, he accidentally forwarded the story before he had finished altering it.

You ain't guilty unless you get caught, and you ain't guilty then if you weren't caught doing something worse. Perfect.

Thursday, April 22

What no dog can live without...

Here's what I'm saying: dressing your dog up in a hot dog costume might be silly, but it's way better than disgracing it with a stupid sweater. At least the hot dog outfit comes with a sense of irony.

Dairy products -- shaken, not stirred:
Alright, so I got a fair number of responses to this milkshake question (see Tuesday's post), all of which lead to the same question I posed before: is there ice cream in a milkshake? The answer: sometimes. How very, very unsatisfying. But here's the evidence I received:

1. In Pulp Fiction, John Travolta describes a milkshake as having ice cream in it. (Original angry reader responds: "John Travolta is a poor, poor source for confectionary recipes.")

2. An ice cream chain in Massachusetts, Herrells, describes a milkshake as "1. In most of the country, this is a drink traditionally made with ice cream, milk, and syrup, and beaten on a milkshake mixing machine (see also "frappe"). 2. In Boston and eastern Massachusetts, it is a drink made with milk and syrup (no ice cream), and beaten on a milkshake mixing machine. It is light and frothy, not creamy and thick like the drink described in definition #1."

3. Lots of recipes: here and here and here and here and here and here.

4. An e-mail from Brighams, another Mass ice cream chain, forwarded along by the angry reader:

-----Forwarded Message----- From: Darryln Leikauskas Sent: Apr 21, 2004 12:22 PM To: [Angry reader] Subject: milkshake vs frappe The difference depends on where you are from.  In the Boston area where Brigham's is based, a milkshake contains milk and syrup, and no ice cream. We often have people order a milk shake, and the staff knows that clarification is required..."would you like ice cream in that?"   In order to get ice cream in it, one must order a frappe.  In every other part of the country, a milk shake already has ice cream in it.   I think you both win on this one.   Darryln Leikauskas Director of Marketing

So, what have we learned? First and foremost, that despite the political sewage I spew across this board, and all the insults I hurl at people, it appears that you, the average reader, are primarily concerned about milkshakes. And two, we've learned that Boston, when it dropped its R's from its speech, also apparently dropped its ice cream from its milkshakes. Don't hate them because they're different, folks. But I don't know if you should try their milkshakes.

Tuesday, April 20

Dreamboy seeks dreamgirl for nightmare:
This is a spam letter a friend of mine received today. Perhaps this is a scam, a la the Nigerian 419 scams, but I have a feeling it's just a sad man looking to make himself a mail-order groom. Here's the e-mail in full, because it can't really be appreciated any other way:

-----Original Message----- From: LEONARDO [leonardouwa@1inglis.com] Sent: Tuesday, April 20, 2004 8:47 AM Subject: LADY READ MY LETTER PLEASE hi I'M AN ITALIAN GUY,I LIVE IN ITALY AND MY NAME IS LEONARDO. I'm writing to you because maybe you can help me. HERE IN ITALY I DON'T HAVE A GOOD FUTURE BECAUSE THERE IS THE RECESSION-THE DOWN SWING CAUSATED BY OUR NEW MONEY-THE EURO AND ALSO CAUSATED BY OUR GOVERNMENT THAT IS NOT ABLE TO GIVE A HIGHER SALARY TO THE PEOPLE,NOW OUR SALARIES VALUE THE HALF AND THE PRICES OF THE THINGS ARE ALMOST THE DOUBLE. I'M HERE BECAUSE I'M LOOKING FOR A SUGARMAMMA IN USA AND LATER I COULD ALSO FIND   SOMETHING TO  DO .  I HAVE ALWAYS HAD THE DREAM TO FIND A WEALTHY LADY WHO LIVES IN SOUTH EAST FLORIDA,RIGHT IN THE PALM BEACH COUNTY.....I LIKE ESPECIALLY DELRAY BEACH BUT ALSO I FEEL ATTRACTED BY BOCA RATON..POMPANO BEACH ,JUPITER OR STUART. CONSIDERING THAT I LIKE THE MATURE WOMEN AND CONSIDERING I KNOW THAT THERE ARE MANY WEALTHY WOMEN IN PALM BEACH COUNTY AND MANY OF THESE WOMEN FEEL LONELY OR DOWN TOO....I'D LOVE TO FIND AN OLDER WOMAN TO COME BACK TO LIVE IN SOUTH FLORIDA.I'M ALSO OPEN TO KNEW PLACES,THEN ALSO NORTH EAST FLORIDA. I SEEK A GENTLE LADY WHO LIVES IN A POOL HOUSE NEAR THE SEA,AGE 40/55 YO,WITHOUT YOUNG OR OLD CHILDREN,A NO SMOKER LADY WHO COULD BE WIDOWED, SEPARATED, SINGLE OR DIVORCED AND COULD TAKE CARE OF ME.I THINK THAT SHE COULD BE OUT THERE AND I COULD ALSO FIND SOMETHING TO DO IN FLORIDA MAYBE LATER. WITH THIS I 'M NOT SAYING THAT I WANT A MILLIONAIRES ,IF THERE'S ONE THAT'S OK BUT I JUST SEEK AN AVERAGE RICH WOMAN AND I THINK THAT SHE WOULD BE HAPPY AND I WOULD BE HAPPY STAYING WITH HER TOO..I'D LIKE AN AMERICAN LADY OR ALSO A LATIN LADY. I'D LIKE A WOMAN THAT FIGURES OUT OF THE YEARS ,LOOKS YOUNG OR LOOKS GOOD AND FEELS YOUNG ,SHE COULD BE A SEX BOMB OR NOT, IT'S NOT A PROBLEM IF SHE IS A LITTLE BIT OVERWEIGHT...OR BUSTY...OR IF SHE IS NOT BEAUTIFUL ,SHE SHOULD BE BEAUTIFUL INSIDE.I JUST WOULD LIKE A WOMAN WHO FEELS SEXY AND MOST OF ALL..SHE SHOULD DESIRE A YOUNGER SOULMATE. Being openminded i could accept a lady even if she is bisexual. I HAVE LONG BROWN HAIR, BROWN EYES,MY WEIGHT IS 65 KILOS/143 LBS AND MY HEIGHT IS 1.80 METRES/5.11...I'M NO SMOKER/DRINKER AND I'M VERY GOOD LOOKING . IF YOU THINK YOU COULD BE THE KINDA WOMAN I'M LOOKING FOR WRITE ME SOON PLEASE MEN,GAY,TRANSEX OR  JOKES DON'T  BOTHER ME LEONARDO

My milkshake brings no boys to the yard:
An astute, somewhat irritated reader has informed me that I made a egregious mistake in an entry from last week. I'm letting this one rip because, well, because:

I was disturbed to read your April 16 entry concerning the Wal-Mart corporation, which included an oft-repeated and completely untrue "fact" to describe the company's attempt to "spin" it's business practices. Milkshakes do not have ice cream in them. I do not know why people continue to maliciously insist that they do, but they do not. Ice cream and milk can be combined to make a Frappe, but not a milkshake. Please do your readers a service and drop the propaganda from your blog.

UPDATE: I asked the angry reader what a milkshake consists of, and he said he was told that it's just milk shaken so well that it's thick and textured. I'm finding this hard to accept. Does anyone out there know what the hell a milkshake is?

Table scraps:
:Why has nobody done this to Bush yet? Australian aborigines invoked an ancient curse on Prime Minister John Howard on Tuesday.
::Looking for a bass player? eBay's got one.
:::Attention all hackers. There's no need to devote time and resources to discovering or circumventing passwords. All you really need to do is offer people a chocolate bar.
::::Rich guys duking it out! The owner of the Dallas Mavericks, who will have a reality show coming out soon, took offense at Donald Trump's comparison between the Apprentice and the Mavericks guy's show. So, the Mavericks guy lashed out in an open letter: "I like your show. It was entertaining and brought out your personality and approach to the world. So will mine, and I can assure you they are nothing alike. If I wanted to do a show like yours, I would have met with Mark Burnett when he wanted to talk about taking your place after next season." Oh, snap! Boo-yah! Take that to the bank, Donny-boy!
:::::Aaron McGruder, creator of The Boondocks, is excellent.

It's no Joker and Catwoman, but...
Batman and Robin successfully defeated the dastardly Empty Gastank Man -- ka-POW!!! -- when they appeared out of nowhere in a small English town to help a woman push her car down the road. "It was like a scene out of Only Fools and Horses and they stayed in character the whole time," the woman said. "They said, "I'm Batman, I'm Robin" and I said, "No, you're not" and asked them if they were going to a fancy dress party but they said they were going back to Gotham City." Holy Batman, Batman!

Here's a hollow bombshell:
The Association of Alternative Newsweeklies announced on Monday that it would release a bombshell article about Iraq at 10 a.m. today, which would be available to any members publication that wanted to run it. The piece is based off a lengthy memo written by "a Western intelligence official," and was promised to portray "a year's worth of serious errors." Pretty exciting! So, what was released today? Unfortunately, this was. It's long and pretty unimpressive -- perhaps because the author of the momo remains anonymous -- and only confirms that the higher-ups in the reconstruction effort are aware there are problems, which is something I'd hope is true anyway. Sure, it's more refreshing and candid than Bush spending an entire press conference dodging questions and saying he's never made a mistake, but it's still no bombshell. The memo itself is probably really interesting, but I think the AAN got caught up in the excitement of its scoop and ruined it by putting it in an article format, where the writer just offers segues between chunks of quotes. Instead, it should have just released the memo to the public.

That's not to say there isn't something worthwhile here. The best moment in the entire piece comes towards the beginning, where the memo writer said the Coalition Provisional Authority "handle(s) an issue like six-year-olds play soccer: Someone kicks the ball and one hundred people chase after it hoping to be noticed, without a care as to what happens on the field." I wonder who gets to play goalie.

How many Moonies must a man talk down?
Tensions rose at a recent Kentucky GOP event, and then suddenly all the angry Republicans were swinging their right wings at each other. The argument started over something tedious and boring -- one group wanted to do something typical and evil, and the other group wanted to do something a little different, but of course still evil -- but things reached a boiling point when one Republican called another Republican a "Moonie," because he's a member of crazy-boy Rev. Sun Myung Moon's Unification Church. But at issue now is just how many times he said "Moonie."

Both men said [GOP delegate John] Lawlor then called [GOP delegate Peter] Hayes a "Moonie." They agree that Hayes then objected. "I said, `You don't call people Moonies,'" Hayes recalled. "`Just like you don't call a black person a nigger or a Jewish person a Kike.'" Both men said Lawlor used the term "Moonie" several more times. Lawlor said that is when Hayes "bopped me" in his left arm. It caused a bruise and left his arm sore for several days, Lawlor said. Hayes, however, said he only tried to grab Lawlor's arm to get his attention. Hayes said: "I asked him how come you didn't do the right thing, and he said, `It's because you're a Moonie and I don't want to work with you.' Then, he started saying, `Moonie, Moonie, Moonie, Moonie, Moonie.'" Lawlor recalled saying only "Moonie, Moonie, Moonie."

If this goes to court, I'm betting $20 that Lawlor claims he was just singing the Tommy James and the Shondells' 1968 hit, "Mony Mony."

Monday, April 19:

I concede to the common issues:
In a few instances on this site, I've teased newspapers for writing about common situations that are too obvious to be worth reading about -- most recently, you'll remember, when the NY Times ran a piece to declare that in the digital age, people delete relevant files from their computers after they break up with a significant other. But the WashPost took me by surprise today, and ran what turned out to be a really fully, insightful piece about people who develop crushes on their friends. Here's a taste:

The friend-crush is largely a phenomenon of adolescence, when hope is more persuasive then experience. Though it happens in high school, it blossoms in college, when a new culture shakes everything up. College is when you consider important questions like: Is there such a thing as a platonic back rub? Is there such a thing as a long-distance boyfriend? It might have to do with the coed dorm setting, where near-strangers are thrust into an intimacy previously reserved for family. (Suitemates pass by in towels.) It might be the fluidity of college dating, in which nothing is defined, and in any case, no one knows what the definitions mean. Are you friends? Are you taking it slow? One person's "seeing each other" is another person's "dating each other," which is another person's "hanging out," which is another person's "friends with benefits." Consider the experience that countless college guys have had. At a party, a certain girl -- one you thought was taken -- seems to be flirting with you. She takes your arm when you walk her home. The next day, when you instant-message her with the vaguely suggestive "I had a nice time last night," she says, "Me, too," and then mentions her boyfriend. What could it possibly mean?

Table scraps:
:Oh, Condi, you live such a sad life. At a dinner party hosted by the New York Times, national-security adviser Condoleezza Rice, who is single and known for being the third wheel on weekends with the Bushs, was overheard saying, "As I was telling my husb—" and then stopping herself abruptly, before saying, "As I was telling President Bush."
::Funny Kerry photo captions are here and here.
:::Bob Woodward's new book about the Bush administration's decision to invade Iraq sounds like it'll be a fascinating and fairly incriminating look into Bush's ideology. The WashPost is running some exerpts from the book, which are making for some great reads.
::::Since this is making its way around the Internet now, it seems only appropriate to try and stem it as soon as possible: you know the dinner plate-sized 'camel-spider' that's supposedly been attacking troops in Iraq? Yeah, well, it's not true.

For this uproar, no nudity necessary:
National hysteria over the intersection of public performance and anything less innocent than an Anne Geddes photo has reached yet another new extreme. A high schooler from Virginia who won a marketing competetion was stripped of his trophy and the chance to compete in a national competetion after teachers said he held his three-foot trophy like a phallic symbol. Greg Sanders maintains he was doing nothing out of the ordinary, and that he was just holding the large trophy on stage the way that it was most comfortable. But his friend has the best argument of all: "It's a natural place to bring the trophy down to. Anyone who knows Greg knows he rocks back and forth when he's standing in front of a group of people. Greg's a funny kid, and if that's what he was trying to do, it would have been a lot funnier than it actually was." And hey, even if he was holding it like a phallic symbol, does it matter? What the hell do you think trophies are, anyway?

Let the McJokes begin:
Just in time to cap off a flurry of efforts by McDonalds to appear more health-conscious and nutrient-friendly, news comes today that the chain's CEO has died of a heart attack. This can't be good for the company's image. Either people say he died because he was eating McDonalds, or the company releases a statement assuring the public that the man never actually ate McDonalds food, which might even be a worse implication than the first. I wonder if perhaps he was eating a healthy McDonalds salad before his death -- you know, the salad that has more fat than a cheeseburger. Either way, Ronald is taking the news pretty hard.

Do the Dean:

When their faces are at rest, some people look sad. Some happy. Some have a big scowl. And Howard Dean has, well, something between confused, disgusted and downright dopey. My friend Seth, on the right, does such a dead-on impression of Dean that I thought it was worth photographing and posting, even if the most news-worthy thing Dean has done in the last month is tell people not to vote for Nader -- which is, of course, not really news-worthy at all.

Friday, April 16:

Wal-Mart wants to eat your family:
In August, 2003, the New York Times reported that Wal-Mart had hired a consultant to do some "reputation research," which it would use to try to understand and repair the anger people feel towards the company. It sounded like a good, encouraging plan at first. Perhaps, I thought, the company will finally allow unions into its stores, pay people a decent wage, halt its growth rate so it doesn't destroy any more communities and put any more mom-and-pop shops out of business, and stop bullying around manufacturers so much that they have to move factories overseas just to keep up with Wal-Mart's demands. But, no. In fact, all Wal-Mart planned to do was release some commercials that aimed to convince people there wasn't a problem at all. People that work at Wal-Mart are happy, the commercials said. They're well-paid, too.

Apparently that didn't work. Now, the company is actually going door-to-door -- or, well, from editorial board to editorial board -- trying to convince newspapers that the company isn't as evil as it really is. One of the first stops was the Chicago Sun-Times, where the spin was so high that, had ice cream and milk been placed on opposite sides of the room during the meeting, they would have merged together to make milkshakes. Here's a sampling of the editorial board's report:

Asked why Wal-Mart has opposed any unionizing of its American workers, [B. John Bisio, Wal-Mart regional director of community affairs for the Midwest] said unions are not necessary because their Chicago area workers are paid, on average, $10.77 per hour. He said union officials have unfairly targeted his company in an industry where there are few unions. "Wal-Mart has been painted into a corner by unions who want to organize Wal-Mart because it is 1.3 million-strong,'' he said. Asked about reports that managers at some stores routinely altered time cards of workers, cheating them of pay, Bisio said the practice is "not the norm.'' Asked if the company in effect censors magazines, some of which have changed racy or revealing covers so they can be sold there, Bisio said Wal-Mart is simply trying "to appeal to our middle-of-the-road customer.''

If Wal-Mart took even a fraction of the money it spends on image control and spent it on its 1.3 million workers, it could probably erase all the issues that caused these problems in the first place. But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

Table scraps:
:Bill, the winner of Hold Donald Trump's penis -- er, uh, The Apprentice -- waxes patriotic about his win: "The American dream is still alive out there, and hard work will get you there. You don't necessarily need to have an Ivy League education or to have millions of dollars startup money. It can be done with an idea, hard work and determination." And that idea, apparently, is to get on television. But you have to give Bill some credit. Some guy in Ohio was hospitalized after being stuck under an organ for 10 days, and Bill got a high-paying job after being stuck under Donald Trump's organ for weeks, perhaps even months. That's stamina!
::The Exorcist in 30 seconds, reenacted by bunnies. And from the same creator: "What happens when I get cartoonist's block."
:::"A great pet is like a work of art, especially if it's a one-of-a-kind mixed breed," says Lou Hawthorne, who will clone cats for $50,000 each. He's already got a few customers. 
::::I hate ads as much as the next ad-hating guy, but I think this writer makes a great point about all the hoopla surrounding Google's Gmail, which will scan your e-mails for keywords and then run text ads that relate to the e-mails. And his point is this: spam filters already do it, and the text ads are less annoying than banner ads, so all these critics need to shut up. Word.
:::::Since I know you're all concerned about what's happening with the dumpster next to my bedroom (see April 14th entry), I have a short update: starting today, a very loud cascade of something -- and i really have no idea what -- comes tumbling down into the dumpster every five minutes. But I can't even see the dumpster today because someone has placed a very tall sheet of wood between it and my window, so the cascade remains a mystery. A loud, tumbling mystery.

Never, ever send this guy spam:
Most people delete spam. A few open it. But this guy tracks down the woman who his spam was intended for, and then has it all forwarded to her cell phone. He's even posted an open letter to her (which is at the other end of that link, but I'm posting it here as well):

I noticed you got a new cell phone. I noticed this because when you signed up at the AT&T Wireless Web site, you gave your e-mail address as "jpkantor@kantor.com." I guess you thought you were being cute by putting ".com" on your last name to avoid all the spam that comes when you give out your address like that. As the guy who owns kantor.com, and thus gets all the mail, I've been seeing messages come in for "jpkantor." Luckily, one of those messages was from AT&T. Unfortunately, the only way to opt out of the junk mail it sends is to 'change my preferences' on the site -- something I can't do because only you have the password. Thus, I'm stuck getting your junk mail. But wait. Look at that: AT&T's mail gives your wireless phone number: 973-216-5659. And the AT&T site explains how to send text messages to its customers: just sent it to the phone number @ mobile.att.net. I therefore took the liberty of forwarding all the junk that comes into "jpkantor" to "9732165659@mobile.att.net." So as your cell phone's e-mail box starts filling up with all those junk-mail text messages, I hope you'll think of me. Because obviously you didn't when you signed up for the e-mail in the first place.

Is that perhaps a bit too vindictive? Yeah, I'd say so. (I mean, no! No! Not at all. Please, guy, if you're reading this, don't send me your spam.) But he's not a total nutcase. There are some really funny things floating around on his site, like this sad example of CNN's need for a copy editor. 

The boob tube or bust:
Next week is national TV-Turnoff Week, an event Adbusters always promotes to its fullest. And while I love the idea of it, I love this even more: the Washington Post reminds its readers that they, too, can get up off their asses and do the kinds of things they see on television. There's a big list: "Fans of 'The Sopranos' will see almost as many guns as they would in an average episode when they visit the National Firearms Museum" and "Addicted to 'Antiques Roadshow'? Appraise yourself silly at the Hunt Country Spring Antiques Fair." That's so good to see because so much of television is just average stuff -- people hanging around, people dancing, people talking. And when real, live, non-tv-character people start living vicariously through the television characters, who aren't doing anything particularly interesting or extrodinary, then that's just plain sad. So, yes, TV-Turnoff Week! There is life outside that box.