A podcast about books, art & life — not necessarily in that order
I meant to ramble about this last week, when Drudge had an en fuego afternoon, posting links to the Cybill Shepard bad-hair day, the Iranian woman who asked a judge to make her husband only beat her once a week, and the guy who was clocked at 205 mph on his motorcycle.
Now CNN has followed up the story, replete with doubts that a motorcycle can reach 205. My favorite detail–even more than the “going a quarter-mile in 4.39 seconds” part–is that it all took place out on Highway 61.
False-hearted judges, dying in the webs that they spin
“The country where I came from—it’s pretty bleak. And it’s cold. And there’s a lot of water. So you could dream a lot.”
So sez Bob Dylan. Occasional VM reader David Gates interviews him in Newsweek. Give it a read.
“What were the skies like when you were young?”
My hotel’s on the Thames, in Dockland (east London). Not a gorgeous area, by any means. But here’s the view from the terrace outside the restaurant this evening:
Here’s that Millennium Dome. More beautiful views here, here, and here. I’m awfully glad to have the life that I do.
Purple?
The Sunday NYTimes has picked up the story: the presidential candidates are tied in NJ polls. Money quote?
“As the 9/11 message of the Republicans recedes, New Jersey voters will come back home to Democrats,” said State Senator John Adler, co-chairman of Mr. Kerry’s campaign in New Jersey.
“Recedes.” Right.
None of you may have been thinking to yourselves, “Could that Stepford Wives remake really have been that bad? I wish Gil Roth would give that a viewing during a transatlantic flight and let me know.”
So I did. I’m of two minds on this one: it either is that bad, or it’s somehow worse. But at least Nicole Kidman’s good to look at.
I’ll give Van Helsing a shot during the flight back, and answer the same question.
Off to London in a few hours for the PABord conference, continuing the oddball travel schedule which will see me board 27 flights in 2004 (up from 25 in 2003).
Fortunately, I have the 40 gb iPod, a laptop, some DVDs, and a paperback of Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver to keep me company. Last year, I read his Cryptonomicon and The Diamond Age during a few of these trips. We’ll see if I can read his Baroque Cycle between this trip and the Brussels/Amsterdam tilt in December.
Andrew Sullivan on Kerry:
Kerry also suffers from the fact that he’s been a senator for twenty years. If you’re not a logorrheic, indecisive ponderer after two decades in the U.S. Senate, then you’re probably a cocaine addict.
I watch a lot of professional basketball. During the years, I’ve followed the careers of some pretty, um, quirky (read: troubled) players:
Take Gary Trent, who reportedly would destroy all competition in practice (demoralizing Brian Grant, at one point), couldn’t function on court, and once beat on a friend with a cue-stick for accidentally setting off his burglar alarm;
Ruben Patterson, who would shut down Kobe Bryant on a regular basis in practice when he was on the Lakers, went 8-0 vs. LA when he went to Seattle as a free agent, and opened the sports world to the “modified Alford plea,” when he was on trial for the rape of the nanny of his kids (the plea evidently is a “no contest, but I admit that I’d likely be found guilty if this thing went to trial”);
and now, Keon Clark. I first saw Keon when he was a rookie with the Nuggets. My friend invited me to a Knicks game one Sunday night, and I saw this impossibly skinny pogo-stick of a man (who bears a strong resemblance to Delroy Lindo) throw down a putback dunk of unbelievable ferocity. I thought he had a serious future in the league.
Unfortunately, Keon got injured a bunch, showed no work ethic, and liked to get baked a lot, so he’s fallen off the radar in the league.
Except in Cleveland, where they’d like to bring him in as a backup center/power forward for next season, according to the Akron Beacon Journal. Problem is, it looks like they’re having trouble finding Keon. Sez the article: “The team is trying to locate free agent Keon Clark — a well-known free spirit and wanderer — who apparently is beyond the bounds of modern communication devices.”
Oh, but that’s not all the article sez. Seems Keon has other issues weighing on him, including this biggie:
“He’s also experienced some personal problems. His father was sentenced to 65 years in prison for murdering a friend in a fight over a bicycle in February.”
Just read that again.
It’s a poor choice of words, but here’s a harrowing report from the commander of the South African contingent of the African Union’s monitors in Darfur:
Colonel Barry Steyn […] says he counts bodies of Sudan army and Janjaweed victims each week and sends classified reports to Addis Ababa. Describing maggot-infested decomposing skulls, he says: “You believe there�s an inherent goodness in people, but you see some of these villages and it shakes that belief. You look at this stuff and it makes you turn dead white.”
There’s more (like the Russian explanation of why they not only abstained from the UN Security Council resolution last night, but also how they hope to sell more weapons to the Sudan government) at Passion of the Present.
Hot, Furry Death
So I’m entering hour 5 of NFL viewing (well, 5 hours of sports viewing, as I watched a bunch of the Yankees’ 11-1 victory against the Red Sox), when I see an ad for the Star Wars Battlefronts game (you can see the same ad by clicking “navigate,” “downloads” then “trailer”).
Evidently, this videogame consists of most of the combat scenes from the original three Star Wars movies. According to the trailer, “For years, you’ve watched the greatest Star Wars battles. What if you could actually live them?”
Sounds cool, right? Evidently, you can play from either side–Empire or rebels–which isn’t quite tantamount to guys who always play the Nazis in WWII simulations.
The trailer commenced with a series of quick cuts, including a few moments that I found REALLY perplexing. Fortunately, I have TiVo, so I was able to freeze the ad and go back to see what it was:
That’s right. In this game, you can actually blow away Ewoks. I picked up these captures from the internet version, but the TV version also includes the on-screen phrase, “Jim killed Ewok.”
All we need now is Jar Jar Binks: Shooting Gallery, and George Lucas can buy that private island he’s always wanted.
