John & Belle Have A Blog

Wishing

Washington D.C. is experiencing a huge increase in foreclosures. Up till now it has been a housing market that, like San Francisco proper, tenaciously held on to peak prices.

The Washington region now has one of the fastest-growing foreclosure rates in the nation, as 15,613 homes went into foreclosure during the one-year period ending in February, an analysis to be released today has found....
The analysis found that the steepest declines in home sale prices, between April 2007 and April 2008, occurred in the outer suburban ring, defined as Loudon, Prince William and Frederick counties. The average price there dropped by $110,900, or 25 percent. The inner ring, Fairfax, Montgomery and Prince George's, had a decline of 3.2 percent. The core, defined as the District, Arlington County Alexandria, experienced an increase of 3.4 percent.

An increase! That's just ridiculous. Still, things are changing now. Do you think these people will be able to sell their 1-bedroom condo for $250,000 when these sellers are offering a single family home for $225,000 just a few blocks away? The former is nicer in some ways, but not enough to outweigh having a yard and no condo fees. Personally, I'd like to live in one of those yellow Victorians on Holly Ave not far from my mom's place, or this one house on Tulip Ave--a huge yard and a sweet southern-style house with a wrap-around porch. I like that whole area of tree-named avenues in there: it's walking distance to the metro, there's a great farmer's market in downtown Takoma, and it's an attractive older suburb with mature trees. No google street view, or I'd show you. Maybe in 2011 it'll be affordable?

UPDATE 1 MINUTE LATER: This house, like a number of others near Flower Ave, was converted at some point to separate apartments. I often read people suggesting that this may be the fate of currently empty McMansions in inner-ring suburbs, to provide housing to immigrants and other lower-income renters (this area has become heavily Latino over the last 10 years, mainly Salvadorean and Nicaraguan to judge from the restaurants.) What would it be like trying to turn such a place back into a single-family dwelling? I guess you'd have a lot of extraneous kitchen to rip out...

I suppose in my dreamiest dreams of DC I would live in Georgetown, maybe facing Volta park, but I don't think that will ever be affordable! Nannie had a house  in Georgetown on Reservoir Rd, one of those brick row houses that narrowed to about 11 feet wide at the back. I'd have to get rid of half my furniture, and it was on an ambulance route, but I would probably move there were it possible. In real life I'm not actually planning to move anywhere at the moment and in fact we're very much hoping to stay on in Singapore, so why am I all the time daydreaming about real estate? Escapism when I feel sick. I like to be able to imagine what it would be like to live in all the different houses, and how I would fix them up. I've done this all my life, but when I was younger it was limited to places I walked past; now with the magic of the internet I can choose from anywhere. Hey, this is one of the houses I was thinking of on Tulip (not the one with the porch, but 2 houses down).

Stuff White People Like

Tonight I made the dough for cinnamon rolls in my Kitchenaid stand mixer so we can have our gay friends who are parents over for brunch, coffee, and some discussion of the Sunday New York Times while listening to indie music via our iTunes. Some other friends are coming whom we met through the Chinese-immersion school our gifted children Zoë and Violet go to. We will, in all likelihood, discuss the Victorian they renovated in SF before moving to India. And one of my very bestest friends from graduate school is here visiting, yay Antonia!  Maybe I should wear the dead-stock, paper-thin 70s T-shirt I got at San Leandro Thrift Town that says "love me" on the front with a heart and "always/all-ways" on the back. I am not even kidding about any of this.

Don't Bogle That Joint

Happy New Year, everybody! I hope it's a healthy and prosperous one. I have been reading about investment strategies lately. I always inclined to say that Vanguard-type, low-cost index funds were where it's at, but I hadn't looked into it all that closely. Having done so, I really don't understand why anyone does anything else. (Let's not get into a pointless argument here in which someone points out that if everyone had an index fund, there'd be no market, etc. Let's stipulate that by 'everyone' I mean 'everyone with a lick of sense and there's still going to be a bunch of suckers/self-deluding hopers pricing things for us.') Really, WTF. Does everyone just have an inflated sense of their own ability to pick stocks, or to pick someone to pick stocks for them. or to pick an investment adviser to...etc.? Tables showing the returns for the average higher-cost, actively managed funds vs the index fund are really painfully brutal to look at, and that's often before subtracting the tax hit created by turnover in the stocks. And how can the costs in money market funds and bond funds vary so much, when the underlying product is basically identical? Some people be getting ripped off, is all I can say to that.

I Think Acid Green Feels Warmly About Brown, Too

Remember when I told you guys that pink and brown is the new light blue and brown? Someone has really taken that and run with it: Pink Loves Brown handmade paper goods. (Available in a range of colors, but why not dance with the color combination what brung you?)

DOES WANT

OMG I want this table by Gregor Jenkin. It is soooo cool.

Via Smoke and Ochre, a South African design blog. I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but probably the best vintage clothing store I've ever been to was in Cape Town. Incredible designs, perfect condition--truly awesome. I only regret I didn't spend much more money getting more cool stuff. And that I can no longer fit into the Ossie Clark silk shirtdress I bought...for US$ 20.

Beer Is Great

John went to have a shower after exercising while watching Heroes, and commented that "Heroes is pretty good, but not great." I thought he had said "Beer is pretty good, but not great." That was really going to have been a shocking aesthetic judgment, there, but it was a false alarm.

Counters

Continuing in the kitchens vein, I am curious about what kinds of kitchen counters people have. We had new cabinets etc. put in here in our house, sharing the cost somewhat with the landlord, and since it was lots of money and not our house I didn't even look at homogeneous countertops when I was picking the finishes out. In retrospect I should have gone with Ikea cabinets; it would have been cheaper and looked better. I am annoyed at myself about it, but such is life. My dad re-did his kitchen a few years back and went with granite, a dark color with some green flecks, and it looks good, if a bit dominating. My basic understanding on marble is that while it looks the greatest ever, it can stain easily, and sealers don't totally solve this problem. My friend only has to leave that cut turmeric root on the counter one time... (A mysterious fact about my life is that every time I wear white I end up going out for indian food.) The other day I was talking to a supplier of solid countertop (Corian-ish) and he seemed to be saying the same was true about the carrera marble-look counters, namely that they could stain. I seem to recall Martha Stewart taking the rather sanguine line that she had accepted that her counters would stain and was OK with that, but I don't know that ordering a copy of Marcus Aurelius to be delivered with the marble is really a practical solution, going forward (and anyway, won't Martha have an army of worker bees applying poultices and the like?). Slate? I love slate, actually, though I don't know how much there is kicking around in Singapore. Well, an amount equal to the marble, I guess! What do you all think? Also, is there any point to hoods over the stove that aren't connected to the outside? I bought a hood for my apartment in Gillman and then realized it didn't vent anywhere except...to the edge of the hood.  I almost want to say just don't bother (NB: the same condo regulations that bar laundry also bar hacking holes in the exterior walls). I didn't bother moving mine and so don't have one now, and it's fine (keeping in mind that I have 15 foot kitchen ceilings and a huge opening to the outside...)

Dream Home Diaries Update

Ah. let's check in on the Dream Home Diaries, shall we? When last we left them, the bloggers had succeeded in causing steam to come out their readers' ears--indeed, many probably had whirligigs on either side of their heads like those atop a pressure-cooker emitting a steady, flute-like note of outrage. The move to real-time posting has allowed us to learn things like...they started construction without builder's insurance! Commenters have been demanding answers about insurance right from the start. I mean, they're building a house in a barrier island in Florida! Off the west coast, as I understand it, so not just triple-plated insane, but still. Once again the bloggers talk in a way that suggests either precious faux-naievté or colossal, gob-smacking ignorance combined with a truly mystifying lack of interest in one's own personal and financial affairs. Check it out:

For months, people (including readers of this blog) have been asking, “What’s your insurance going to cost?”

Up until yesterday, I always answered: “I assume a lot, since we are right in the middle of hurricane alley. But I’ve been afraid to check.”[??!!11!]

And I would have been willing to put off finding out, but yesterday our bank had other ideas: They made it clear that our builder would not get any more money from our construction loan until we got insurance....[!!11!!1!!!WTF??!!!1]

Like everything else in this saga, getting insurance was a bit more difficult than I would have thought. It turns out, explained Theresa M. Collins of the Dick, Johnson and Jefferson Insurance Agency in Bradenton, Fla., that we need to take out insurance two separate times.

AAAaaaaa!! "More difficult than I would have thought." Did I mention the part where they are building a house on a barrier island off the coast of Florida? OK, but f'reals. I go through periods during which I feel sympathy for the bloggers, who are roundly vituperated by about forty people every time they post on their own blog. But then again, no one's making them, right? And mother of god they are acting crazy. It's the combination of ADD-style boredom, inattention to detail, insouciance about financial reversals, and continuous mock-surprise at the realities of building that does it. I mean, they are somewhat putting us on with the surprise, aren't they? Because sure no one would actually be this flaky etc. on a huge project which they are, just by the way, documenting for the readers of a small local paper we like to call The Palmetto Gazette The New York Frickin' Times? But then, since everyone hates it, why would they be putting it on? I've come to believe this is some sort of experiment in the construction of authorial identity on the internet, and I, for one, am angry that the Princeton sociology department would OK a human-subject study like this without getting informed consent from readers. Have they learned nothing from the Milgram experiment?

Juice

I'm humming the old Sesame Street song: "two of these things belong together/two of these things are kinda the same/but one of these things is doing it's own thing..."

Until his arrest this week in Las Vegas on charges of armed robbery, Mr. Simpson, 60, appeared to live contentedly and, but for a few exceptions, quietly.

“I love my life!” he has been known to exclaim, whether tucking into a meal, receiving a lap dance or watching his children play sports.

Lickable

The wallpaper at this place is great, and this too. Also, I want to let everyone know that as the masses have finally come around to the combination of brown and light blue, brown and pink is where it's at now. Finally, the Curtis Mayfield live version of People Get Ready is amazing.

Gyrocaptain and the World of Yesterday

Moving makes you to open old boxes. Example: the one containing all the old hipster stuff we hung on our walls in Berkeley. We had a wall of nicely framed ads and fashion spreads from 70's magazines. Example: this old Smirnoff ad, which I think holds up rather well. How could personal gyropacks and vodka not mix, after all?

And, on the back ... nothing says the not-so-distant future like:

Also, Soju Is Vile

This NYT article explains how Korea's drinking-oriented corporate culture is changing in the face of increasing numbers of female employees. Traditional Korean nights out with your office mates typically involve getting totally hammered. Reducing drinking, though it's presented as something the companies are doing for women, also helps men who dislike having to drink so heavily. Maternity/paternity leave or days off to care for sick family members are the same: plenty of men want to take time off when their babies are young, and a policy pitched as helping women can be a boon to them too (provided the mores of their workplace actually allow them to take the time, which in the US can be a doubtful thing.) The article tells of a woman who won a lawsuit against her former boss because he pressured her so heavily to drink that she couldn't take it and left the job.

In the case of the 29-year-old graphic designer, when she was interviewed at the 240-employee online game company in 2004, she was also forced to submit to an “alcohol interview,” according to the court ruling. She could drink only two glasses of beer and no soju at all, she said.

Her boss, though, liked to go out with his 10-person marketing team — six men and four women — at least twice a week until the predawn hours and brooked no excuses.

One time, he told her that if she called upon a “knight in shining armor,” [a male co-worker who agrees to take her turns at a drinking game] she would have to kiss him. So she drank two glasses of soju. Another time, after she slipped away early, he called her at home and ordered her to come back. She refused.

That's not even about drinking culture so much as it is about having an abusive bully as a boss. Luckily, despite the lost lawsuit, he's sure to be offered a place here in the States working for the Republican party: "At the trial, the boss said he was so intent on having his subordinates bond that he sometimes used his own money to take them out drinking. He called the woman a weirdo and said of the lawsuit, 'I’m the victim.'"

I Was Steeped In The Movies Of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Which Is Why I Advocate That The US Paint Itself With Mud And Start Shouting "Come on! Kill me! I'm here!"

Newsbusters is outraged that the Traitorious M.S.M isn't hyperventilating about the recently publicized al-Qaeda torture manual. I consider myself a connoisseur of crazy right-wing comments, and this thread is officially awesome. There is general agreement that the liberals are just as much enemies as the terrorists, including bonus conspiracy theorizing about how Muslims have inflitrated the ranks of top newcasters. Everyone regretfully comes to the conclusions that we're going to have stop being so darn nice to everyone and really take the gloves off. This comment by "misterbill", though, is a delicious frappé of psuedo-reluctant bloodthirstiness and self-parody:

KC -- well said--I admit that it bothers me--to follow the lead of the enemy in our behavior, but if we lay out the Marquis of Queensbury rules we leave ourselves at a serious disadvantage. The enemy will feel free to do as he wants. As an older American, I was steeped in the movies of WW2 and how we held to our high moral ground in our dealings with the enemy. It does not work if the enemy's purpose is to destroy us. We have too many people in America who naively believe that if we withdraw our troops the world will be a paradise. All that will happen is our enemy will be emboldened to strike us in our own land again. I hope our troops will continue to do what is necessary in dealing with prisoners to protect me and my family. [emphasis mine]

Ah, Republicans. They're going to go for Thompson for sure.

I Can Live With That

Why am I so all-fired cannibal, though? PZ was only like 5%.

Your results:
You are Inara Serra (Companion)

Inara Serra (Companion) 95% Zoe Washburne (Second-in-command) 85% Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic) 80% Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic) 80% Malcolm Reynolds (Captain) 65% Alliance 65% River (Stowaway) 60% Wash (Ship Pilot) 55% Jayne Cobb (Mercenary) 45% Derrial Book (Shepherd) 45% A Reaver (Cannibal) 20%

Click here to take the Serenity Personality Quiz

More Makeup

So, yeah, ettusais' zero pore makeup base is womderful. (ettusais is a japanese company that has branched out to Singapore.) Now, you may be thinking, "Belle, foundation just looks weird anyway, so why would I be using foundation base and then foundation? I don't want to look like the human interest reporter for a crappy local TV news show." The thing is, makeup base just makes your skin look even, and then rather than putting on lots of foundation you can just put a teeny bit of foundation around the base of your nose and maybe in your T-zone and around your eyes. Or just concealer. One option is Shu Uemura's foaming makeup base, which is a mousse that sprays out of an aerosol can. Transparent coverage, and it has sunscreen, although I am skeptical that any face product other than sunscreen/moisturizer is going to give you adequate coverage. I used to swear by it, and it's great, but...the fabled ettusais zero pore base is even more awesome.  It looks white in the little pan, but when you put it on with your finger it's transparent and makes your skin look matte and poreless. Really, it's amazing. As matte as with loose powder, but without looking powdery and old-ladyish. I got some as a sample, and this is the only time in my life that I went right back to the counter a week or so later and bought some. The sample gimmick worked. Also pictured is ettusais soufflé cheek in the little pot, which is also great and looks incredibly natural.

Finally, I discovered the greatest thing ever at Mustafa Centre. On the main floor, just before the entrance to the drugtore part there is a big wall of oil-based perfumes. Some of them smell just awful, at least to me. I mostly can't stand oriental perfumes because I don't like amber or musk (although sandalwood and chypre are OK). Some of them, though are incredible, like the one I got: Cempaka (i.e., a type of jasmine.) It doesn't smell like anything other than jasmine; it's just as if you were wearing a big garland of flowers. Mmmmm. At Sing$ 6 per bottle, it's massively cheaper than either Chanel Allure or Robert Piguet's Fracas, my other favorites, so I can wear it to bed without guilt. It's made by Jamal Kazura Aromatics in Singapore (but trademarked to a company in the UAE?). Hie thee to Mustafa and get some, local readers (also sold in Chennai and KL, from what I can glean.)

Also, on the second floor where the groceries are there is a shelf of turkish delight running around one of the stairwells. Hacizade rose flavored is so good you'll cheerfully betray your family to the White Witch for Sing$ 7 per box.

More Frankenstein

Remember when Kramer bought dungarees that made him walk like Frankenstein? And scared that kid? I've obviously got Frankenstein on the brain these days. But you might be interested to know that seasons 1-7 of Seinfeld [amazon] are on sale - $99.99, marked down from $271. I don't really like Seinfeld all that much, truth be told. But maybe that sort of thing is more your style.

Mmmm, Lickable

I normally feel indifferent to Marc Jacobs, and I tire of his faux-candid shots of Sofia Coppola in a sleazy motel room. These clothes, on the other hand, look pretty great. Watch the slideshow to see all the goodness.

Taking Sexyaway

Hard to argue with this Fametracker When Stars Split feature on Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake. Sample:

4. Two of her best girlfriends are her Charlie's Angels co-stars Lucy Liu and Drew Barrymore.

• And they totally just love to hang out and braid each other's hair and pig out on junk food and play "Bloody Mary" in the bathroom mirror, you guys! Maybe you've heard?

Like all consumers of chick magazines, I have indeed heard this. I even remember when the editors of Marie Claire sent the three of them on a wilderness survival course and they had to huddle together for warmth. The guy leading it helped them catch a fish with their bare hands and then Drew wouldn't eat it. He seemed worried she might be faint from hunger, thus showing that he had never thought very hard about what or whether Hollywood actresses ever, ever eat.

Maybe K-Y Would Be Interested?

Salon's Ask The Pilot columnist notes that the TSA is going to start selling space on the bins and tables used at airport security checkpoints to advertisers. He is nonplussed by the crass commercialism of what is allegedly a matter of national import, about which, yeah, fair enough. I am shocked that any company would want to create an association in customers' minds between their products and what is surely one of the worst experiences one is likely to have in a given week, if not month or year. (They clearly want to, though; a friend in Oregon noted that the official TSA signs demonstrating properly packed toiletries of the appropriate sizes for the new War on Moisture depict actual P&G(?) products rather than generic ones.)

Lileks Watch

Hmmm:

AND NATALIE, PUT YOUR SOCKS ON, IT’S TIME FOR WENDY’S.

I’d promised a trip to Wendy’s tonight, since Mom was at a law-related gathering at the Guthrie. We had fun; the muzak was all late 70s disco hits, and I mortified Gnat by singing along to all the tunes.

Dad stop it, you’re creeping me out.

I upped the soul-face quotient and sang some more.

DAD STOP.

In general, what with the terrifying Thanksgiving dinner at Holiday Inn in Fargo, the weekly (!) trips to eat the pizza at Chuck E. Cheese's, and the documented love of Uncrustables, I feel that much of James Lileks' general dyspepsia could be cured with the application of some actually good food. I mean, doesn't the laughing about the regrettable foods of days past ring a little hollow otherwise? And doesn't he go to NYC sometimes? Wait, though, I have a vague memory of his claiming that NYC pizza wasn't better than Domino's. Well, I guess when Gnat becomes a sullen, emo vegan at 13 she'll have to learn to cook some things, maybe the eats at Jasperwood will pick up. (I really encourage you to read the Thanksgiving link; it is genuinely disturbing. He describes how he drove a long way to spend one night at the Holiday Inn, sleeps in his clothes on the sofa, gets up without showering or changing, and then eats repulsive food in a holiday buffet. It's interspersed with passive-agressive snipes at his step-mother and wife, and bitter complaints about the incompetent people who work at Wendy's. It makes me sad just to think about it. I think eating cold grits and gravy in the county pen on Thanksgiving would be way less depressing.)                            

Could I Get A Thin Rubber Mayonnaise Insert?

An idea whose time has come. I didn't know I wanted one, but now I see there's a gaping velvet-lined emptiness in my jewellry box. Ladies and gentlemn, just in time for all your holiday shopping needs: The BLT Ring. Hopefully it comes in large sizes, so you could get one for the bacon-lovin' man in your life. A heart-warming symbol of love...of bacon.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

Nice to see Matthew Yglesias was welcomed to the world of Skins fandom in style. Oh well. His years as a Knicks fan have prepared him for the worst man can endure (The only time I have ever actually cried about a sports game is in '95 when Patrick Ewing missed the layup at the end of game 7 against the Pacers in the second round of the playoffs. I didn't have a TV in my apartment so I was watching it at the Lebanese mini-mart on the corner. The owner game me free beer. For me to cry into! MY was just a lad then, but I'm sure the bitter, bitter heartache endures). The Redskins will be no problem at all. I told him that the key to Redskins fandom is just this: hating the Dallas Cowboys with the incandescent blue fire of a thousand O-Class stars. So say we all.

That's Supposed To Be A "Boy"

Beyond annoying and not annoying...there is: a fan-video about a Japanese cross-dressing school-girls sit-com, set to Finnish tango music. Thanks, YouTube.

Was Something Wrong With "Second Bull Run Jolie-Pitt"?

John and I plan to name our next girl "Chickamauga." She'll totally have her own Uncle Tupelo theme song, too.

God, Someone Shut Them Up For Their Own Sake!

Sweet holy jeebus. J-Pod:

The big pop-culture news today is that J. J. Abrams, who is one of the creative forces behind Lost and has just directed Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible 3, will be making a new...STAR TREK movie featuring Kirk and Spock as young men meeting as officers-in-training at Starfleet Academy. I would pay many quatloos to see Jonah in a cameo as a kick-butt drill sergeant. Hey, if Whoopi Goldberg did it...

emphasis mine.

He Hates Yams!

Tech blegs are boring. Let me amuse you. Belle picked up some unused labels from old yam crates at some second-hand store. [Shouts at her: "Belle, what the hell are these things?" Belle: "Some dead stock yam crate labels?" [now this is Belle typing] Stipulated John response (no actual Johns were harmed): "What?" Belle: "Shit, what I said. Dead stock. Labels. For yams. Racist labels." Hypothetical John: "Oh.")]

If I tell you that framed labels of this type are the mainstay of our kitchen decor, will you think I'm crazy? Wait, let me rephrase that--more crazy than you thought I was before? No? See John? ["They already thought you were crazy." BW: "awww, man?!"]

the monster is badly damaged so that it has to go big

I need a camera to my eye
To my eye, reminding
Which lies I have been hiding
which echoes belong
I've counted out days
to see how far
I've driven in the dark
with echoes in my heart.

Fly Fly Fly, Little Starbuck

Belated BSG blogging (since Belle and I are only now starting to watch season 1 - still 35% off!) In episode eight, "Flesh and Bone", Starbuck has to extract information about a possible bomb from an apparently borderline psychotic Cylon prisoner. There's sort of a Clarice/Hannibal dynamic that starts to develop, although that's not quite the way it ends up going. Anyway, I thought they missed the opportunity for a much better title.

Norriswatch!

"The Justice Riders realized that whatever they would do or become they would not tolerate evil, oppression, or injustice." (via Bookslut)

The book description is anaphorically unbuckled: "From the gold and silver mines of California and Nevada to the wide open plains of Texas, the American West was a wild frontier in the 1870s where dangerous outlaws pursued devilish dreams of fortune. But there were other men of simple faith, unsung Civil War heroes who adventured west to bring justice to places that had none. Those they called "The Justice Riders."

So they called the places 'the Justice Riders'?

Is Chuck Norris a Jungian Archetype?

Why should it be the case that without any provocation I should see a copy of Chuck Norris' book Chuck Norris: The Power Within at the Langley Park Value Village for $1.01 and decide that I MUST buy it for my brother for Christmas, and only then discover an internet groundswell of Chuck Norris appreciation? Why? Why should I choose the name Violet under the express condition that it has been declining in popularity in the recent Social Security surveys, only to have both The Incredibles and the wretched Ben Affleck (via Jennifer Garner) ruin my world? On the one hand it seems as though I am a trend-setter; on the other, it seems as though society-wide trends are taking my brain over via some unspecified mechanism. Wha? Finally, is this real, or only fake-believe? (via Ezra "I will studiously refrain from making any jokes about the Kind, but still you should totally talk to me about this one café" Klein.)

Lost

And speaking of pork, the last few episodes of Lost have been pissing me off. (John and I are watching the first season at the moment--I would say SPOILER ALERT if it weren't the case that they are dribbling information out of their collective clenched ass so slowly on this show that we are unlikely to learn more by the last DVD than that some people crashed on a messed-up island.) Problem 1: Jack doesn't want to hand guns out, even to Locke who's supposed to be hunting for meat and obviously knows how to handle one, even when the mysterious Ethan is kidnapping and hanging people? Because of some vague "guns are more dangerous to their owners" bullshit? There are polar bears and crazed Frenchwomen running around! Are we really, as audience members, meant to think anything other than "he's insane"? Or are we supposed to have some atavistic blue state sympathy for this idiocy? Problem 2: Sawyer captures a baby boar and is shaking it around to lure in the boar he's pissed at, and Freckles is all "put him down!" What? They should either kill that baby pig or bring it back to the caves to fatten up. Roast suckling pig doesn't grow on breadfruit trees. Then Sawyer doesn't shoot a 200-pound boar looking him right in the eye, and even turns his back on it, and we're supposed to be sympathetic to this? First of all, it's stupid because that boar could easily kill them both. If there's one thing you learn from a) being from the south and b) reading lots of classical literature, it's that wild boars are dangerous animals that can kill people. Second of all, what part of "crashed on a deserted island and scavenging for food" did these people not understand? Damn. I better find out what those stupid numbers are about tonight.

Breaking News: David Brooks Making Lazy, Slap-Dash Assumptions; Penning Trite, Innacurate Columns

You really have to go read this Slate article eviscerating Bobo Brooks. Seriously, I think he woke up this morning, went to the bathroom, and was like, "I didn't used to have an asshole there. Is that new"?

Problem: Brooks' first example of "French rap lyrics today" is, well, 13 years old. The song in question, "Brigitte (Femme du Flic)" appeared on the 1992 album Pourqoui Tant de Haine, by the long defunct duo Ministère A.M.E.R. (The group's rappers, Passi and Stormy Bugsy, have gone on to successful solo careers.) Moreover, Brooks' research seems to consist of reading two articles in conservative-identified American periodicals. I suspect that Brooks' source is Theodore Dalrymple's article, "The Barbarians at the Gates of Paris," which appeared in the Autumn 2002 edition of the City Journal. Dalrymple provides the exact translation that Brooks cites as "Bitter Minstry's … best-known lyric"—though the lyric is not so well-known that (based on a Google search) anyone else appears to have ever translated it into English.

Now there's nothing wrong with Brooks using Dalrymple's translation, or even relying on his ideas. But isn't Brooks implying some broader knowledge of the topic at hand? Look again at his citation: "Most of the lyrics can't be reprinted in this newspaper, but you can get a sense of them from, say, a snippet from a song from Bitter Ministry." That "say" suggests that Brooks has any number of examples at his fingertips. The truth is, it's probably one of only two French rap lyrics he's ever heard—or, rather, read. The other he cites is the invective of "Mr. R," who, needless to say, the French know as Monsieur R. And lo and behold, a quick Google search turns up "France's Homegrown Gangstas," from the Sept. 28, 2005, issue of the Weekly Standard (where Brooks is an editor), which features the exact same English translation of lyrics from Monsieur R's "Fransse."

Ooooooooowwww. That had to hurt. Him, Tierney...and the only women columnist on the Times editorial page is Maureen Dowd? They could have Belle Waring for much less money, too. Much less. Of course, with the new TimeSelect thing no one would read my stuff anymore, so it's a trade-off...

Speed Freak Seminoles

God, I hate meth as much as anyone, but this is just sheer idiocy (via b0ingb0ing):

The White County sheriff says the time-consuming and methodical task of searching for arrowheads on farmland and in river beds seems to appeal to methamphetamine addicts. Sheriff Pat Garrett says that after more than 100 search warrants, he has come to expect arrowheads, many thousands of years old, when he storms the homes of suspected meth makers.

Tony Young of Velvet Ridge says the sheriff is on to something.  Young is in jail awaiting trial on a meth charge.  He says looking for arrowheads gives people wired on meth something to do.  To pay for his legal defense, Young sold his arrowhead collection to a local dealer.

Young says that many nights he found himself in fields full of fellow   arrowhead hunters and many of them were high on meth.

Arkansas State archeologist Ann Early says she's seen meth users collecting arrowheads in the Ozarks.  She says it is troubling that they have taken to collecting Indian artifacts.

Dude. Rednecks like to search for interesting historical artefacts. Sometimes they have metal detectors and are on the hunt for Civil War artefacts. Other times they are just relentlessly scanning newly turned earth for Clovis points. This doesn't have anything to do with being meth freaks. This is just something people who live in the South like to do because it's fun and interesting. I myself have spent many hours of my life searching for Indian arrowheads. The moment when I found a striated, coral-and-cream, palm-long spear-point in the sands bordering the May river was one of the high points of my life so far. I was also totally fucking stoned. Objection--relevance?!

     

Then John Was Like, "You Sound Like an Ad."

You know what cleaning product is really, really very amazing? The Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. I don't know where it was that my life made this rather odd turn to the anal retentive, but I spent quite a while tonight demonstrating the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser to my maid Tena Zamudio (and John). If you have never used this thing, you can't imagine the ease with which greasy fingerprints on your door frames will become a thing of the past. She and I speculated about the possibility of bringing them into Singapore and selling them at an extortionate mark-up to Philipina maids eager for the latest in American germ-phobia-exploitation technology. Then I told her about how in the US they have these disposable kitchen counter wipes treated with bleach (you must follow this link to see that it is hosted by "empowerment4women" There isn't really a lot more to say there). She wanted to know why I didn't get those too, and I hadn't even told her about the ad for them in which a would-be-cleanly housekeeper wipes a raw chicken breast on all the surfaces of her kitchen, to represent the effects of cleaning with the kitchen sponge (not that I would ever do that. God, no, people; I microwave those things every day for a minute on high, and also don't use them to clean anything but dishes.) When I saw that ad for the first time, I actually felt the gorge rise in my throat, rational beliefs about the relative germ-infested-nature of my toilet bowl to that of my kitchen sink notwithstanding. Anyone who ever saw the 4 foot high pile of unrinsed soda and Kern's nectar cans in my old apartment in SF is probably laughing right now, but I'm asking you, what about the children!! Also my powerful appetite for liquid sweets and candy bars has unaccountable declined. Blah, blah, mugwumps, Hunt's Donuts, whatever. Hyundai, tricked-out, Christmas in July. You fill in the blanks.

People would go, 'Wow, Liz! You look great!' And she had cancer!

Wow, who knew Cathy Horyn was fat before? Well, she's a lot thinner now, she'll have you know.

That's Like Hypnotizing Chickens

Slate's worst ad song ever competiton has been neatly won by, well, the worst ever pairing of an ad with a song: Royal Carribbean Cruise Line's use of Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life". My jaw was certainly on the floor the first time I saw that ad. Can you get it "in the ear" on Royal Carribbean? Also nice, though:

"The NFL's use of Lou Reed's 'Perfect Day' in a Super Bowl ad for itself. The ad: A montage of home movies and official films shows fans enjoying the thrills of the sport with Reed's song about heroin and suicide playing in the background."

Ummm, yah. On the other hand, for straight-up ads for Quaaludes, Pantopon, and more, see this (via b0ingb0ing). Mmm, Pantopon Rose.

Nerdcore R00lz

God, I love me some Johnny Depp. He is rocking dorkstyle on the red carpet.

I think the spectator shoes really make it.

50% Away The Body Thetans

You know what the big problem is with Hollywood these days? Unfounded hostility to Scientologists. F'realz. Just listen to Jenna Elfman:

“I intend to make Scientology as accessible to as many people as I can. And that is my goal,” Elfman said. To do this, she says, it is my “duty to clear the planet.” By “clearing” she means to rid the world of “body thetans” — aliens who Scientologists believe inhabit the earth from a nuclear explosion 75 million years ago. She continued that “the more successful I became, the more suppression I bumped into … especially in the entertainment industry, which really is home to rabid suppression.”

Yeah, that's what's been going wrong with her career. Not, you know, the terminal annoyingness or anything. Wow, and from the same article, in the department of ultimate who-cares-belatedness: "Madonna spent most of her time on the set of the Material Girl video smooching with Keith Carradine, director Mary Lambert recently revealed." No. Way.

The Itchy and Lumpy Show

You've seen the John Scalzi 10 Worst Christmas Specials piece. But truth is lamer than fiction. Who among you remembers the 1978 Stars Wars Holiday Special? Go here. Lots of images.

Folk of the Eighties

The eighties tarot.

Powerpuff Pirate Primitivism

The hawker center down the road has a new ride Zoë loves to death. A mini ferris-wheel, I guess you'd call it. Here, I'll show you:

The little seat goes up and around as the wheel turns. So you end up a couple feet off the ground, and you can sort of jiggle laterally for extra entertainment value. You see the familiar Cartoon Network heroic icons emblazoned on the disc. Click on the thumbnail to see a large version:

Obviously an unsanctioned product. Made in China. It's very interesting the way piracy and inspired primitivism converge ... sometimes. The music that plays when these things go is another case in point. A chorus of very young girls, Chinese, singing Western standards, but unable to pronounce the lyrics and clearly not understanding a thing. "Oh, Susannah!" particularly tongue-tied them. (I hope I never hear tell of any Chinese forced labor camps in which young girls are forced to sing  "Oh, Susannah!" for twelve hours a day, for a penny a day.) These music tracks are quite standard across this equipment. We have a Donald Duck-looking fellow downstairs, outside our mini-mart, who emits the stuff. Maybe I'll go sample it so you can all enjoy.

But not everything we did today was exotic. One activity was as American as apple pie.

In the curl of a teddyboy's lips - tonight

Here is a wholesome teenage link. Make sure to click on 'headlines' as well as looking through the fine galleries. "Girl blamed for 'Edwardian' Gang Fights"; "Tailors Attack Army's Ban On Teddy Boy Suits"; (that front page has an apparently non-ted related bonus headline: "An attack? How very odd, says War Office"; the tailors at work?) "Town Hides From Teddy Boy Terror".

CSI: Ninth Circle of Hell

World O'Crap takes a break from scaring me with crazy right-wing blather (hint: God doesn't want me to wear pants) to make me laugh with white-hot hatred of CSI Miami!

We hate "CSI: Miami." Why do we watch it? Well, partly because we have nothing else to do Monday nights at 9:00. But more, we watch it to hate.

When we heard the promo stating that one of the "CSI: Miami" cast would die in the season premiere, we hoped that it would be Horatio Caine. We hate him with the heat of 1000 suns. It's one of those satanic confluences of an an annoying actor and an annoying character that together rise above annoyingness to reach, um, hatability.

We hate the way he talks -- both the way David Caruso reads a line, and the stupid lines they give him to read. For instance, one his team will say something obvious like, "Hey, a dead body!" And EVERY TIME Horatio will reply with something portentous and pompous, like "Not dead ... murdered. And it's our job to catch murderers." He'll say it like everybody should be thanking him for pointing this out, because they're, like, such idiots that without him they would have thought their job was to wear designer clothes and look hot. Oh, wait, that IS their job.

And then crime scene investigator Horatio will single-handedly wrestle a gang of murderous rappers to the ground, and will later later show up at their execution so he can quip something like, "You thought it was cool to hook kids on crack. Let's see how cool you are in the electric chair, my friend."

That is so, so true. For some reason they don't have L&O here in Singapore (well, they have Law and Order: Creepy Perverts Doing Shit That Will Keep You Up At Night Unit), only CSI: Miami. Luckily, I don't watch television, so I guess it doesn't matter. But anyway, Caruso sux0rz.

UPDATE: As PZ Meyers rightly asks, what was Gary Sinise thinking? Fametracker tells all:

Sinise is almost fifty now, so we don't begrudge him the regular paycheck and predictable hours that come with signing on to C.S.I.: NY, though we realize it pretty much signals the end of the interesting part of his career. Cop shows are where interesting actors go to die, or at least to retire. (Vincent D'Onofrio, make room at the canasta table for your new friend.) A cop show to a great actor is like a newspaper column to a legendary reporter -- you know, the guy who broke big stories back in the '70s, and now makes six figures to write twice weekly about how he still can't figure out that new-fangled barbecue!

When I Step Out I'm Gonna Do You In

OK, now, either Ogged is just being contrary so people will fight in the comments thread, or else he's a big hippie. A woman who has a professional-type job of any sort, and makes an active point of never wearing make-up or high heels, is saying "I'm a big hippie/sticking it to the man/reading a lot of Habermas/gay and don't fuck with me, pal." But further, chicks who sometimes wear nail polish...sometimes don't wear nail polish. I knew a super-hot Israeli commando/surfer chick with buzz cut hair who got long fake nails one time for a laugh at her local beauty parlor. Powder blue ones. Right now I don't have any nail polish on because one of my nails broke off short. At other times I have had such manicures as: black, each one a different color, perfect red, badly bitten cuticles, french, scary coral, only buffed, chrome, but looks like the end has been dipped in blood, and full on black girl cityscape art with initials and rhinestones. And obviously Ogged and I have some stuff in common, right, like dorking around on the losernet blogging? People just try different shit sometimes. They're crazy like that. Unless you're a really, really big hippie, then don't go around assuming chicks who wear heels or sometimes have make-up on are not for you. It's like the New York Lotto: hey, you never know!

Make-Up

I think Will Baude is partially wrong on the whole "I hate make-up" thing. I say partially, because it's a perfectly reasonable aesthetic preference to say you don't like women to wear a lot of make-up. So, he doesn't like lotsa eyeliner, glossy red lips, and so on. Fine (I disagree, because make-up can be fun sometimes and can look great). But, I'd be willing to bet that Will thinks some women look good without make-up when they are in fact wearing skilfully applied makeup. Is he really going to notice that someone has curled her eyelashes and put on one coat of non-clumping mascara? Or is he just going to think she has big eyes? How about someone who has put a small amount of foundation around the base of her nose and the outer corners of her eyes? Matte white pencil on the lower, inner rim of the eyelid? A dab of Rosebud Salve? A quick once-over on an otherwise bare face with the NARS The Multiple stick in Palm Beach? Guerlain bronzer in the cleavage? Is Will going to think, hey, nice job with the Shu Uemura foam make-up base, concealer, and translucent lavender powder (to counteract sallowness), or is he just going to think the girl's got nice, even-toned skin? Are those flushed cheeks and just-bitten lips natural, or did they come out of the Philosophy The Supernatural bottle (you should really buy this, by the way. It's amazing)? Is Will aware that some women comb their eyebrows? Perhaps even with the eyelash comb they used to remove the excess mascara, thus setting their brows and slightly darkening them in one easy step? I don't know, I mean, maybe he's out there in bright sunlight with the magnifying mirror checking shit out, but I'm willing to bet he's frequently fooled. I often feel sorry for guys, who can't wear make-up, and this have to go around looking like crap all day when they, say, have a hangover.

Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!

Premieres tomorrow.

This adventure centers on a self conscious young teen named Chiro who -- with the help of five high-tech robot monkeys -- transforms into the brave fighter, bold leader and great hero he always wanted to be. Set in the Utopia of Shuggazoom as a cosmic changeover looms, the villainous Skeleton King is plotting to turn this futuristic planet into his evil empire. When Chiro inadvertently awakens the long dormant Super Robot Monkey Team, he absorbs the Power Primate energy that transforms him into superhero-in-training and leader of the Team. Now, the five Super Robot Monkeys help Chiro hone his new powers as he evolves into the Chosen Protector of the Universe!

Uhhhhh. OK, whatever.

I'm Outta Luck, Outta Love, Got a Photograph, Picture Of

Via Ogged, a totally amazing gallery of high school senior photos, with analysis. For the record, I made a collage for my senior page, in the center of which was a black-and-white photo of me with my hair almost completely covering my face. Plus Clash lyrics. It was pretty rad.

The Extra E

I really, really didn't need the image of Kitty Kelley and Matt Lauer involved in S and M and watersports, thank you very much Tina Brown:

Matt Lauer's opening one-on-one with Kitty Kelley on the "Today" show this week was an example of a new genre of TV journalism: the interview as Hells Angels initiation ceremony. After being smacked around, stomped on and having her leathers urinated on from a great height by Lauer, Kelley was then welcomed back for two consecutive mornings to plug her new doorstopper, "The Family: The Real Story of the Bush Dynasty."

Wow, even Tim Sebastian isn't that hard-core. I can't wait to see what Wonkette has to say about this, if she sobers up enough to read it, that is (not that there's anything wrong with blogging drunk.) There used to be an ad on NY's "blue" channel for this hotline: "dial 1-900-888-PEEE! The extra E stands for extra Pee!" I am not making this up.

HARDtalk

Strongbad's latest email features a hard-hitting interview program. Not as hard-hitting as BBC's HARDtalk, though. The intro depicts people forging the HARDtalk logo out of molten, hissing steel; that's how tough it is. I really don't understand why anyone ever agrees to be on this show. The premise of it is that the interviewer, Tim Sebastian, is just a total dick to every single person who comes on. He's like the nega-verse twin of Larry King. If you see it only once, and he's interviewing anyone remotely unsympathetic, you think, wow, that's some tough questioning and hard-hitting journalism there! The Pakistani information minister just got 0wnz0r3d! But. After seeing him pull the same shit on every guest, including the UNICEF guy, it starts to get old. He's more interrupty than Hannity and Colmes put together, and he has a peculiarly English way of sneering at people. "Taking all this into account" he says, interrupting the UNICEF guy, "do you really think you're...helping people?" Not even the scintillating techno riffs can keep me on the BBC worldwide when HARDtalk is on the cards (I remember seeing that you could actually buy a CD of the BBC intro music, just in case hearing it 80 times a day weren't enough. They claimed to be releasing it due to popular demand (!?))

Where Exactly Is the L.A. Underground, Again?

Let justice roll down like waters, people. The A-Team has been cleared at last:

After more than 30 years spent hiding in the Los Angeles underground as wanted criminals, the members of the crack commando unit Alpha Team, commonly known as the A-Team, were cleared of all charges brought against them by the U.S. military, an army official announced Monday.

If only Hannibal were here to see this day. As the Faceman points out, he loved it when a plan came together

Koko Krunch

Like Will Baude, I am often irritated by Jane "I was a perfect mother and my children grew up to be thin and hate junk food" Brody (the NYT Health columnist). And I agree that her recent anti-TV rant was confused; the correlation between excessive TV-watching and early smoking is obviously because they are both caused by something else, such as lack of parental oversight. I think that non-parent Will is wrong about one thing, though: "the amount of power that Brody seems to ascribe to mindless junk food commercials is bizarre." Now that I am the parent of a small TV-watching person, I can tell you that junk food advertising aimed at children is incredibly effective. Zoë mainly watches cable (i.e. ad-free) TV, but she sometimes watches the local broadcast kid's channel. On it they have ads for Koko Krunch featuring Dora the Explorer. Zoë really thinks Dora is her friend, and she understands that this cereal tastes like chocolate. She really wants me to buy this for her. She mentions it a lot, and if she's just seen the ad she'll go on about it for a little while. Now, the solution here is obviously that I just don't buy it, and she's not able to go shopping. I've explained to her that we don't buy that kind of cereal because it's not very good for you, because it's made of sugar instead of wheat and things, like good cereal is. So, in one sense, no problem. But in the sense that she isn't able to fully distinguish between ads and shows when the feature the same character, Zoë is a very malleable would-be consumer indeed.

I Fight By The Side Of The Fantastic Four

There has been some speculation at Unfogged recently, regarding the nature of Jacob Levy's fanboyishness, and the nature of my superpowers (see comments). Naturally this reminded me of just how lame Invisible Girl is. She has to be told what to do in every situation by one of the male characters. Typical thought-bubbled musings from FF ish 41: "It's like a terrible nightmare! We're being menaced by the Frightful Four again! I've got to help Reed and Johnny--but how??" I don't know, lady, maybe you should consider turning invisible and using your fucking force field, for a change? Must Ben Grimm, the Gentle Jewish Giant of Gneiss, guide your every move?

John had a 7-11 Slurpee cup of Invisible Girl as a child, on which she proudly claimed: "I fight by the side of the Fantastic Four!" Or ... the Fantastic Three, maybe? Because, you see...aw, forget it. [I've still got it. See iss. number - Aw, hell, see all my issues. - ed.]

But now, in what is possibly the most daringly dramatic development in the field of contemporary confectionary, Belle's new powers can be revealed. Yes, I have the power to bake and decorate a cake that looks just like Wonder Woman. Look, and be amazed.

We had a very DC birthday around here, courtesy of the ancient, dusty Wonder Woman cake set I found mouldering on the top shelf of a strangely untrafficked Singapore baking store. 1978, people. Was it just a coincidence...or something more? Don't miss the gripping finale of this great team-up adventure next issue! Thrills, spills, and sock-em, rock-em, action! All this and more awaits you in the upcoming action-packed pixels of John and Belle Have a Blog--now, more than ever, your kind of blog!!!!!! [see you there--ed.]

Plastic Fantastic

Are you all aware of how scary male Real Dolls are? I mean, orders of magnitude scarier than the female ones. I have been trying to think about whether this means our concepts of female attractiveness are more abstract than our concepts of male attractiveness. I think so. (via Cup of Chica)

UPDATE: I took out the least safe for work links so our blog won't get too many real doll cooties. You can still acess them all via the Cup of Chicha link.