Fascist Ass Dante

There's something in the Jesus juice at The National Review. Now, it's not just Steve Jobs, the shuffle, and Kelis' milkshake that brings all the Nazis to the yard, it's also Kevin Smith or something:

"If God is dead," a brother Karamazov said, "everything is permitted." Well, obviously there are atheists who have a strongly reasoned, and as they see it "objective" moral code based upon reason. They are not relativists. But there is now again, as there was in the 1930s, a spreading invisible gas of relativism, even among such atheists, not to mention among former believers in God. For growing numbers, it seems, ours is becoming again "a world in which everything has lost its meaning." The academic fashion of Post-Modernism puts an ideology to this, and its roots seem to me much too like those that led up to the fashion for Fascism and Communism among "the Clerks."

I know, I know, I'm putting words in Michael Novak's mouth. I know he's not referring to Kevin Smith, but if I get to post about Kevin Smith's purported relationship to fascism, do you think I'm going to turn it down?

Quote of the Day

The New York Press' Matt Taibbi on Thomas Friedman's The World is Flat:

On an ideological level, Friedman's new book is the worst, most boring kind of middlebrow horseshit. If its literary peculiarities could somehow be removed from the equation, The World Is Flat would appear as no more than an unusually long pamphlet replete with the kind of plug-filled, free-trader leg-humping that passes for thought in this country. It is a tale of a man who walks 10 feet in front of his house armed with a late-model Blackberry and comes back home five minutes later to gush to his wife that hospitals now use the internet to outsource the reading of CAT scans. Man flies on planes, observes the wonders of capitalism, says we're not in Kansas anymore. (He actually says we're not in Kansas anymore.) That's the whole plot right there. If the underlying message is all that interests you, read no further, because that's all there is.

It's this mean and this funny throughout. (via Hit and Run)

Why is this blog hiatus different from all other blog hiatuses?

I'm headed for Nati in the morning for four days of leaven free goodness. A much needed vacation from M-F, 8:30-5 drudgery. Be back next week. Lates.

Being Jeff Craig

David Edelstein tries his hand at hack film crit:

Imagine what I could have done for Oliver Stone's widely reviled Alexander:

Me: Alexander is a colossal movie, made by a colossus of our cinema!

TV Host: But is it good?

Me: Good! What a paltry word. Is war good? Are the most magnificent questions in the history of humankind good?

TV Host: So, go see it, then?

Me: You don't "see" Alexander. Alexander sees you.

Now imagine how I'd pitch everyone's favorite whipping boy, Gigli:

Me: Gigli explores the nature of human sexuality as no American movie has before. It moves the boundary posts. It will leave you astonished at what movies are capable of.

TV Host: Critics are saying it stinks.

Me: Have you ever been in a room full of critics? Do you think critics have experienced the full range of human sexuality? Do you trust critics to report accurately on the fleshy intimacies of Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck?

TV Host: So, you're saying they're wrong about Gigli?

Me: I'm saying that truth is subjective and conditional. Gigli should not be seen alone, but with someone to whom you may cling. Then you must explore your mutual feelings, perhaps at Applebee's over juicy steak tips or luscious frozen margaritas in exciting new fruit flavors. [NB: I can do product placement tailored to your movie's demographic.]

I give fleshy intimacies mixed with Applebee's fajita chicken wrap my highest rating...7 out of 10!

Fuhrer Shuffle

"In this regard, the consumerism and relativism of the West can be just as dangerous as the totalitarianism of the East: It’s just as easy to forget about God while dancing to an iPod as while marching in a Hitler Youth rally. There’s a difference, to be sure, but hardly anyone would contest the observation that in elite Western society, as in totalitarian Germany, the moral vocabulary has been purged of the idea of sin. And if there’s no sense of sin, then there’s no need for a Redeemer, or for the Church." - Daniel P. Moloney (National Review)

It is easier to focus on new and exciting forms of genocide when marching in a Nazi Youth rally than it is when you're humming along with Ashlee Simpson's "Autobiography." It should be noted though that Hitler also frequently had stains on his T-shirt, but, he was not the biggest flirt. That honor was firmly held by Goebbels. Or so I've heard. (via Sully)

Community Soap

Hi, my name's Veronica Mars. I'm super hot and whip smart and, oh yeah, I'm the best show on network TV. Yep. That's right. So, uh, yeah, if you get the time, WATCH ME.

High Tension looks scaaaaary. It has all the key components: fear of travel, fear of being out in the middle of nowhere, fear of creepy rednecks with many rings on their fingers, dirty white wifebeaters, utensils put to bloody uses, actresses who look like but are not Samantha Morton, fear of sleeping after reading In Cold Blood and then using your time up at dawn for good use and writing a screenplay called High Tension. We have now come full circle. Thank you and good night.

Backstreet's back...OY VEY. It has all the key components (notice a trend): brooding guys who may or may not be getting a little too fucking old for this (LOSERS), Howie singing in the rain, Nick dodging an exploding car (funniest shot by far), guy who dresses like a pirate from time to time on white piano, but, alas, no Aaron Carter guest spot, his voice all Peter Brady'd, singing about how he wants candy in front of Michael Jackson. If this comeback sticks, the terrorists have already won.

James Stanford might still hate your blog, but, for the time being, he'll be keeping that fact to himself. Worst roommate evs.

Bill Simmons is compared to Jimmy Fallon's character in Fever Pitch and, subsequently, freaks the fuck out: "Here's a news flash for you: If that was really me in the movie and I had season tickets right next to the Red Sox dugout, not only would I have never considered giving them up for a girl ... there's a 99.9 percent chance that I would have died single. And that, my friends, is the difference between a chick flick and real life."

A current of electricity is delivered into the collar, shocking and, thus, training the subject to avoid crossing over the invisible fence

Thinking back, I used to bitch and moan about Boston U.'s guest policy, where in you had to sign in everyone, from grandma to that drunk Northeastern girl you'd met at a party and were now planning on "showing your room to." One or all of the escaped Nazi war criminals at the front desk would inspect the provided pieces of identification and allow entry. I think there was some sort of curfew and the university also pretened that campus apartments had to comply with these same rules. Yeah, not so much. But, man oh man, Bob Jones University, that bastion of liberalism and debauchery, sure keeps a short leash on their kids/sinners. Consider the following:

· Music must be compatible with the University's music standards: New Age, jazz, rock, and country music is not permitted. Contemporary Christian music is not permitted (e.g., Michael W. Smith, Stephen Curtis Chapman, WOW Worship, and so forth).

Not even WOW Worship? Have you guys seen the ads? C'mon. Oh, there's more:

Cell phones are permitted. Students will be instructed in cell phone etiquette.

Posters of movie and music stars and fashion models are not permitted. The subjects of personal photos should exhibit the modesty and appropriate physical contact we expect from our students.

Students are required to be in their own rooms and quiet at 11 pm. All lights must be out by midnight.

You may not possess or play computer and video games rated T, M, or A or having elements of blood and gore, sensual or demonic themes, or featuring suggestive dress, bad language, or rock music.

All weapons must be turned in for storage. Trigger locks are required for pistols. Fireworks are not permitted on campus.

Skipping towards Gommorah, indeed. (via TMN)

Huzzah!

Tuesday sucks. Yeah, I said it. Tuesday's on its way to being the new Monday, all shitty and depressing and justifiably unloved. And then, the dark clouds part, and a ray of sunshine. Finally, some Broken Social Scene news:

All that's known at this early juncture, they say, is that there's one album in the works, tentatively slated for a fall release, and a whole lot of other stuff that remains up in the air: "We accumulated over 200 minutes of music," Drew told Pitchfork yesterday, "and we're trying to figure out what to do with it all."

This came after fellow label mate Jason Collett (also one of the many BSS members) said, "We're putting out three records at staggered times. So we're starting in the fall and there will be one in the new year and then there will be one within that same year as well." Collett seems to have gone a little overboard, but good news is good news:

Drew insists the as-yet-untitled album is "almost done," and that, barring any major catastrophes, it will be out in autumn, at which point the group will launch a worldwide tour. "All we've done is captured a time in our lives," he says. "Raw fucking puke and love. At the end of the day it's just music made by people who don't own a filtering system."

One more time...huzzah!

Quote of the Day

"But I am still in shock. This was not an act of continuity. There is simply no other figure more extreme than the new Pope on the issues that divide the Church. No one. He raised the stakes even further by his extraordinarily bold homily at the beginning of the conclave, where he all but declared a war on modernity, liberalism (meaning modern liberal democracy of all stripes) and freedom of thought and conscience. And the speed of the decision must be interpreted as an enthusiastic endoprsement of his views. What this says to American Catholics is quite striking: it's not just a disagreement, it's a full-scale assault. This new Pope has no pastoral experience as such. He is a creature of theological discourse, a man of books and treatises and arguments. He proclaims his version of the truth as God-given and therefore unalterable and undebatable. His theology is indeed distinguished, if somewhat esoteric and at times a little odd. But his response to dialogue within the church is to silence those who disagree with him. He has no experience dealing with people en masse, no hands-on experience of the challenges of the church in the developing world, and complete contempt for dissent in the West. His views on the subordinate role of women in the Church and society, the marginalization of homosexuals (he once argued that violence against them was predictable if they kept pushing for rights), the impermissibility of any sexual act that does not involve the depositing of semen in a fertile uterus, and the inadmissability of any open discourse with other faiths reveal him as even more hardline than the previous pope. I expected continuity. I didn't expect intensification of the fundamentalism and insularity of the current hierarchy. I expect an imminent ban on all gay seminarians, celibate or otherwise. And I expect the Church's immersion in the culture wars in the West - on every imaginable issue. For American Catholics, I foresee an accelerating exodus. But that, remember, is the plan. The Ratzingerians want to empty the pews in America and start over. They will, in that sense, be successful." - Sully, on the newly anointed Pope Benedict XVI

Quotes of the Day

"If I am unable to feed, clean, or dress myself, I would like to be referred to as 'Mr. Trump.'"

"At my memorial service, I would like my clergyman to begin his eulogy with the words 'I suppose, in a way, we all killed him.'"

"If my death is particularly dramatic, I would like to be played by Hilary Swank, for a slam dunk."

"If my doctor pronounces me brain-dead, I would like to see the new Ashton Kutcher movie."

-from Paul Rudnick's living will

Kim Jong Il Stays in the Picture

In The New Yorker's Talk of the Town, there's a great little piece on South Korean filmmaker Shin Sang Ok. In 1978, North Korean agents kidnapped Shin's actress wife and then him. Kim Jong Il intended to become "the Irving Thalberg of the East" and planned to use Shin to accomplish this feat. Few are aware of Thalberg's starvation camps and/or his penchant for underage sex slaves. I'm Irving Thalberg, bitch!

Shin eventually escaped and ended up in America, directing one of the 3 Ninjas films. The best bit in his recollections:

Kim was eager to broaden North Korean cinema beyond such titles as “The County Party Chief Secretary” and “The Fate of a Self-Defense Corps Man.” He gave Shin a studio that, in time, employed seven hundred people. “I never had to worry about money when it came to moviemaking,” said Shin, who made seven movies under Kim’s patronage. Better still, Kim Jong Il didn’t meddle or give notes, as Hollywood producers are wont to do. And Shin always had final cut. “Kim Jong Il was very supportive,” Shin added. “But he never visited the set.”

Brad Grey, watch your back. Kim knows how to run a studio and he might just have the nukes to take one over.

Crisis Management by Elizabeth Berkley

Elizabeth Berkley: "Is it huge?"
Joel Wyner: "Oh yeah."

Berkley is a crisis manager and Joel is the con man hired by her aging boss to disgrace her in Random Encounter (1998). This exchange takes place soon after they meet and has to do with his "business venture." Hehe, he said business venture. After this scene, Berkley and Wyner go back to his place to "review his portfolio." After a deep conversation about how he likes to surround himself with beautiful things, like hot, wet bitches, they get down to business. Wyner (who has since gone on to create "Keen Eddie" and also write The Mexican) resembles Ben Stiller's stand-in or maybe Stiller and Jake Gyllenhaal's brooding love child. Anyway, Joel's about to hear Elizabeth's oral presentation when his old lady walks in with what looks like a wooden stake and after a brief struggle where he's about to be stabbed and sent back into the hellmouth, Berkley, ever crafty, picks up a paper weight or something and hits her over the head with it, killing her instantly. The body's dumped, detectives begin lurking about, the Stiller/Gyllenhaal baby keeps on brooding, and Elizabeth, all the while appearing to be wearing balding spray on her hairline in certain scenes, never gets nakie. The movie is pretty terrible, which I'm sure comes as a great shock. In the end, it just made me want to watch Showgirls or the "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm so....scared" episode of Saved by the Bell where Jessie gets hooked on caffeine pills. It should also be noted that earlier in the evening, I watched about an hour of Saved by the Bell Hawaiian Style. Elizabeth Berkley throws herself into everything: cars, eating french fries, stripping, hula dancing in efforts to save the Hawaiian Hideway, tracking down con men who fuck her and fuck her over, and making my Sunday night. From everyone here at the OV, thank you, Elizabeth. We all prefer to live in a world where you are Bayside's valedictorian instead of Screech, but we don't love you any less just because that world doesn't exist.

Quote of the Day II

"He gave me V.D. I was 18 or 19, and he didn't tell me he'd given me V.D. Instead, he slipped a note from the health center, asking me to come in for a checkip, inside a Valentine's Day card. Really charming. And I never saw the note. Eventually I discovered I had V.D. because the symptoms became so appalling." - Shirley Manson, in this month's Blender, answering the question "Who was your worst boyfriend?"

...and since so many posts have been sports related today, I must also included this bit from Shirley, answering the question, What's your favorite legal drug?:

"The San Antonio Spurs. About four years ago I spotted Tim Duncan taking some free throws, and I became an insane basketball freak. I have NBA League PAss on my TiVo, and I spend revolting amounts of money on tickets. But I never want to meet Tim Duncan; I just want to idolize him from afar."

Quote of the Day

"Anyone who argues that "the Probably Drunk Guy was reaching for the ball and 'accidentally' swiped Sheffield" or "we shouldn't judge him because we don't know his intentions" also believes that the Pistons fan who threw the beer on Ron Artest was "just trying to throw his brew out." Come on. If you accidentally swiped a player reaching for a ball, wouldn't your natural reaction be to jump backwards or make some sort of "Whoops!" face? What Boston fan would be dumb enough to interfere with a potential two-RBI triple that was in play? And by the way, had he scooped the ball up, that whole section would have killed him because Ortiz (the eighth run) would have had to go back to third base...

Nope, Probably Drunk Guy was much more calculating – he made it seem like a half-hearted swipe, didn't come within four feet of the ball, and if anything, he probably meant to get more of Sheffield's face than he did (from ESPN's replay of the camera located closer to home plate, you could see that he had no chance at the ball and clearly saw Sheffield coming). And when Sheffield came after him, there wasn't even 1/100th of a look on the guy's face like he felt any semblance of remorse. If anything, he was probably dying for Sheffield to come at him so he could take a punch and immediately call "Attorney Jim Sokolove" from those late-night commercials." - Bill Simmons, on the most covered non-story thus far in this young baseball season

Crit du jour

"Folks, it's thoroughly second-rate. Half of Spamalot consists of intact exchanges from the movie, mostly delivered by Americans who get the inflections wrong—about on par with me and my dorm-mates 20 years ago, only we didn't charge over a hundred bucks and had the excuse of being stoned." - Slate's David Edelstein

It's Pat!

Wikipedia's entry on Pat Robertson is super best, y'know, with fun insights into the power of Pat's prayers, which can control, among other things, that pain in your knee, the unfortunate leaking of stories of how he banged mad hookers in Korea, your blindness, and the path of hurricanes. And this money quote:

"Just like what Nazi Germany did to the Jews, so liberal America is now doing to the evangelical Christians. It's no different. It is the same thing. It is happening all over again. It is the Democratic Congress, the liberal-based media and the homosexuals who want to destroy the Christians. Wholesale abuse and discrimination and the worst bigotry directed toward any group in America today. More terrible than anything suffered by any minority in history."

Oh, Pat. We love you.

Who's stupid? That would be me.

I went to work yesterday. I'm a dumbass. I could've just had Chris Barr go for me. (via The Morning News)

No Buzz

I live in L.A. County, where non-existent “rivers” are decorated with frog fences and perfectly fine crosswalks are redone with colorful brickwork, while the pothole a few yards away is ignored. I work for a county office where a step stool costs over $300. I live in a city with the worst traffic in the history of man and the freeways have never been altered in some two decades or more, with the only changes made acting to worsen the gridlock. A defiant stance on this front is constituted in the existence of the carpool lane and the county’s ad campaign to encourage “ride share.” In essence, the local government is insisting (despite the economic status of the majority of its citizens, which requires them to commute 30 minutes or more to work, thus making “ride share” something close to impossible) that a lane be eliminated from usage (with stiff penalties attached…a ticket of nearly $400), furthering traffic difficulties and, thus, making their commute longer, more arduous, and their need for gas (priced at the highest rate in the country) that much higher, making the strains on their wallets that much greater. For those who chafe at the mere mention of eliminating the carpool lane, the above also illustrates the farce that is the defense of this lane as some sort of environmentalist cause. If a lane goes unused and creates further congestion, thus increasing the amount of gas used and purchased, the smog isn’t exactly being kicked. And why? Because “ride share” sounds nice and sensible, despite the fact that it’s neither, and because a few old crones come to city council meetings and scream and yell every time freeway reform or expansion is proposed. They already have to live with the indignity of the occassional helicopter fly over and moving to Utah is just not an option for those who dream of bygone days.

Now, this is all off topic really, because what set me off was Jeff Jarvis’ lament regarding the new stadium deal between the state of New Jersey and the New York Giants. He questions why taxpayers should be made to pay for sports staidums, when not that many people really like sports. Let’s delve into Jarvis’ reading comprehension. In the story he links to and this story that I now link to, it’s abundantly clear that the Giants ownership will pay for the stadium. Sure, there may eventually be some kind of hike in taxes that could then be related to the stadium, but if future tax hikes from government entities is a reason to stop building something that will employ a good many people, then we must halt all construction for the rest of time. But, frankly, when ownership is putting up the $750 million and all you have to fret over is a future, unknown possibility, you don’t have much to fret over. There are other deals where the taxpayer is forced to pay a chunk and I think there are fair arguments against making taxpayers support construction when billionaire owners don’t want to. But to then make the argument that this reasoning is based on the fact that a lot of people don’t like sports or that a lot of people won’t be able to go because of the season ticket structure in the NFL is just retarded. Commenter Mike agrees:

What a ridiculous diatribe. Do you honestly think there is a person out there who utilizes every single thing their taxes pay for? You can substitute almost anything for sports in this post: mass transit, public schools for those who send their kids to private schools, private business owner incentives and the list goes on. Although I completely agree on tax-funded professional stadiums, they are the biggest crock around. Just to note, this new stadium is being privately financed by the Giants, it's the debt on the remaining stadium and other utility costs that will be subsidized by Jersey taxpayers.

Jarvis bitches about the “one size fits all” society (“When did it become assumed that sweat was entitled to support from the rest of us? Well, I think it's a view of a one-size-fits-all society that is becoming obsolete. Media used to be one-size-fits-all: If enough people read sports, we'll include it in the paper; if enough play it, we'll build the fields; if enough watch it, we'll build the stadiums. But in media, one-size-fits-all is dying. Isn't it time for that view to die in the rest of society?”) where in he is forced to pay for sports channels on his cable service. (“On cable TV, I have to pay for lots of sports channels I never watch. Why should I? Maybe everybody else should help pay for my broadband internet bill, huh?”) Jesus F-ing Christ. ESPN and its derivatives (that’s the Deuce, ESPNU, and ESPN News), FOX Sports and its derivatives (Euro sports), and...what? This is such an indignity? Eventually, the future of cable may be a make it yourself entity, but that time is far off and having to flip past a channel or two to get to what you want is not all that much to worry about. And, yes, I know I’m biased. I love sports. And if I could swap out the religious channels and three channels in languages I don’t speak (Telemundo, the Russian channel and FOX News...oh RAHA...he said FOX News) for more sports, I would. So, maybe Jeff and I agree.

Don't Call It a Comeback

Meet the Mets. Greet the Mets. They started out 0-5 and panic set in. Think of it this way. The last time Willie Randolph had anything to do with the Mets, he was a broken down veteran on one of the most reviled clubs in team history, that infamous, not exactly huggable, Jeff Torborg led bunch of overpaid assholes (Bonilla, Coleman, Murray, Saberhagen, et al) and now he’s the manager and they’ve started 0-5 and images of Saberhagen spraying bleach on the press or Vince Coleman maiming children or Bonilla challenging reporter Art McFarland to a fight after he didn’t like the nature of a question about his shite peformance flashes through every Mets fans head or at least those old enough to remember that time when you briefly considered the pros and cons of rooting for the Yankees. But here we sit three games later, and the Metropolitans are 3-5. Reyes looks great (.342, hot OBP, 2 stolen bases, game winning hit to beat the Astros and deny Clemens his first win in Flushing, likely making him want to break a bat and toss it at Piazza’s head or behind Shawn Estes’ back) and Ishii, if he continues pitching this well, may be a steal, considering that all they gave up was Jason Phillips, an inconsistent, at best, catcher/1B with the one cool attribute of wearing Sabo style goggles on the field. Progress is progress. As I did once before, I implore Victor Zambrano to get it done tonight. Life will get a lot easier if you begin to be more than just that guy who everyone says has potential and into that guy someone other than writers and/or managers who like to wax philosophic on player potential can actually depend on for something. Win. The one thing better than being 3-5 is being 4-5. That’s math.

Coach's Orders v. Ordering the entire left side of the menu: Giants third string quarterback Jared Lorenzen was asked to report to spring practice at 270 lbs., which would mean losing about 15 pounds from last season. He reported to spring practice at 338 lbs. Someone's been waking up with the King.

I, Robot: "These intelligent machines will grow from us, learn our skills, share our goals and values, and can be viewed as children of our minds. Not only will these robots look after us in the home, but they will also carry out complex tasks that currently require human input, such as diagnosing illness and recommending a therapy or cure. They will be our heirs and will offer us the best chance we'll ever get for immortality by uploading ourselves into advanced robots." Shiver. Call me a ludite, but I have a hard time believing this. (This comes from Hans Moravec, head of Robotics at Carnegie Mellon, who predicts such a feat as soon as 2050.) Frankly, I'm still waiting for my Jetsons blingage (or my Back to the Future II hoverboard). Where's my flying car at, Cogsly Cog? Huh, bitch? Eep-op-ork-ah-ah.

Welcome back, Alias. I missed you.

The quiet return of Bernardo Dashiell Pier to the sphere.

What ever happened to The Yiddish Policemen's Union?

Chabon tells us: February 1, 2005 marked the start of year three on this novel. Like its author, the book is changing. Novels are like Borges's Chinese map; the longer you write them, the closer they grow in scale to the contours of your own lived life. They have good days and bad days. They suffer calamities, they get lucky.

From geek status, to king status, to no status

The Mets are 0-3, the worst start for the club since 1964, when Casey Stengel's Metropolitans went 0-4. Tonight, against Atlanta, media whipping boy Victor Zambrano could do worlds to improve his standing with press, fans, and all others who believe him to be a dud acquired for a stud (Scott Kazmir). Yes, there are 159 games remaining, but 0-4 won't make anyone happy. Not Victor Zambrano, not me, not the blood thirsty N.Y. tabloids, not fans, not my mother (whose communion name made her intitials M.E.T.S....before she converted and before she married), not anyone but Ted Turner and those who believe beefalo to be part of a good hearty meal or those who collect Nazi relics or those who think Jane Fonda to be a fool, not for cozying up to the VC but for leaving Turner to do nothing but tinker with his end of the world DVD. Let's go Mets! Tonight's the night.

Amy's Robot and the "Metaphysical properties of Chapstick."

Uncle Grambo, we here at the OV thank you from the bottom of our hearts: "Watching four minutes of this show proves to me that everything I've ever assumed about Cameron Diaz is true. Namely, that she's even more shallow than a kiddie pool. Despite being flown across the world on someone else's dime and having the opportunity to take in culture and scenery that 99 percent of Americans could never even DREAM of being able to afford, the only words that seemingly come out of her gaping piehole are "This is bad ass!" Reverance for history and foreign culture be damned, bring on the "Eva Mendes farts in her sleep" jokes! Even that friggin' crazy cokehead Steve-O is a virtual Marlin Perkins when compared to Cammy Diaz! I don't think I'm being in the slightest bit on fair when I deem "Trippin" to be the Worst. Show. Ever."

Patients' rights? Pfft. Pharmacists and doctors with a tie to the lord know much better and if they don't want to give you all the information available, well, they must be right, since it's Jesus telling them not to. Or is it the Holy Ghost? Choice bit: In a related issue, Colorado Gov. Bill Owens (R) exercised a rare veto this week, for a bill that would have required all hospitals - including Catholic ones - to inform rape victims about the availability of emergency contraceptives. Among other concerns, he questioned the constitutionality of forcing religious institutions to engage in speech counter to their principles. (via TMN)

Hitch leaves the wake early: "Unbelievers are more merciful and understanding than believers, as well as more rational. We do not believe that the pope will face judgment or eternal punishment for the millions who will die needlessly from AIDS, or for his excusing and sheltering of those who committed the unpardonable sin of raping and torturing children, or for the countless people whose sex lives have been ruined by guilt and shame and who are taught to respect the body only when it is a lifeless cadaver like that of Terri Schiavo. For us, this day is only the interment of an elderly and querulous celibate, who came too late and who stayed too long, and whose primitive ideology did not permit him the true self-criticism that could have saved him, and others less innocent, from so many errors and crimes."

I'm Bill Frist and I'm running for president

When not making video on-demand diagnoses or giving noogies to Harry Reid, Senator Bill Frist is busy unofficially running for president. That's why, unlike a few of his colleagues in the party of Lincoln (that big bowl of fiery borscht, Tom Delay most notably), he's not all for busting a cap in Judge Wopner or rationalizing the reasons for busting said cap into said Wopner. I anxiously await outrage regarding this modest move towards the middle from Sean Hannity and Ann Coulter and Michelle Malkin. This will surely happen right around the same time Natalie Portman ponders whether to keep her name, take my name, or hyphenate.

Castlevania heavy metal Jodie Foster Judge Greer made me do it

Yesterday morning, per the requirements of my “job,” I took a typing test. Currently, I’m a temporary employee but not a temp., as I’m on the payroll as opposed being paid through an outside agency. In order to attain “permanent” status and acquire the holy grail of said status, dental coverage, I am required to take a series of tests, some requiring me to add, subtract, and alphabetize, and others to type a grammatically horrifying writing sample that used dashes again and again with reckless a-b-a-n-d-o-n. Keep in mind that by becoming permanent and getting dental coverage, I will have a new deduction without a pay raise. Yes, that’s right. By becoming a permanent employee, I will be paid even less. If you’re keeping track at home, that’s four fewer buttons and thirty fewer grains of sand per month.

The test was to be at 8:30 a.m., but because this is the county government, and, worse yet, county government “human resources,” the test truly began at 9:30, with the 8:30 group colliding with the 9:30 group and several surly women in denim tops or Ross Dress for Less ensembles huffing and puffing, yelling at everyone like the prison warden they’ve been trained to be. After you’ve listened to the instructions and a few “SIR. SIR! Please do not touch the keys before I tell you to!” the test begins. You have five minutes to type. You are expected to type 40 words per minute, in order to pass. You are then permitted to type again, for another five minutes. Your highest score out of these two go-rounds will determine your final score. The score is calculated by speed and accuracy, so if you make a lot of mistakes (or choose to omit the incorrectly placed dashes), your score will be lowered. Once the five minutes is up, the program stops you and a screen pops up with your score. You are told to wait unil the proctor comes to your desk and records the score before moving on. Bored, waiting for the woman to come to my desk, I happened to glance over at the computer beside me. The girl scored a 2. Two? Two? I guess that’s how you was raised.

Due to the test and the standard work day, I was unable to watch Opening Day between the Reds and the Mets. Tivo saves the day that Braden Looper would just throw down and take a dump on. I shut out news, scores, the radio, and just about any web site that would even think of leaking some kind of news about Opening Day activities. So, I got home and got to watch it uninterrupted and undisturbed. Now, look, they lost 7-6. Okay. Braden Looper came in to close out the game in the ninth, set up the tee by home plate and instructed Reds hitters to swing for the fences. They complied. This morning, ESPN radio jock Colin Cowherd (worst replacement for Mike and Mike or Tony Kornheiser evs) made this out to be the telltale sign that the Mets, as an organization, do not have “core beliefs or values,” you know, like the Cubs. Look, I’m willing to accept that the Mets did not do enough to improve their bullpen, even if the bullpen did perform well prior to Looper’s arrival, but the Cubs? The team whose entire season was basically ruined by their bullpen last year? The same one that did nothing to improve that bullpen this offseason? That one? The one with “core values?” 161 games to go. It’s a long haul. There is no need to panic just yet. Pedro looked great, going six and striking out twelve, even if he had a rough first inning, which doomed him by way of his pitch count, but striking out twelve in six and looking unhittable that whole time ain’t too bad. Beltran and Reyes both looked fantastic and the holdovers, namely Piazza and Floyd, both looked strong. Let’s go Mets.

His name in full is F. James Sensenbrenner III. Making bumper stickers has never been this easy. (via Hit & Run)

You're sitting there, all smug, thinking to yourself, people become violent loonies because they play too many video games. Well, asshole, you're fucking wrong. People become violent loonies because of activist judges. And you thought you were so smart. (via Wonkette)