06.10.11 – a friday

word

lucubrate [loo-kyoo-breyt] v. 1. to work, write or study laboriously, especially at night 2. to write learnedly

birthday

Jacques Marquette (1637), Howlin’ Wolf (1910), Judy Garland (1922), Maurice Sendak (1928), João Gilberto (1931), F. Lee Bailey (1933), John Edwards (1953), Elizabeth Hurley (1965), Mike Doughty (1970)

standpoint

While I’m sitting here trying to think of something irking me to write about, I’m realizing I’m in a genuinely good mood. So, while I normally get pretty irate about now due to all of the inane crap I peruse daily as part of writing this blog, I’m not my usual inflamed self. But I’m gonna give it a try anyway.

These people stole my idea. Let me explain. I remember when I was younger, I dreaded the first and last month of the school year because there was simply no way to adequately air condition a building occupied by several hundred teenagers. It was always uncomfortably hot. I told every faculty member I came into contact with that school should be dismissed because of what I deemed “inhumane conditions.” My suggestions were always met with eye rolls and sighs. Guess I was on to something, huh?

→ After writing that last little blurb, I became aware that I’ve never been able to spell the word adequate without using spell check. I only spelled it write this time because I cheated and looked.

→ I literally haven’t watched a second of Mad Men. Feels good to get that off of my chest.

→ Everyone I know is sick and tired of me talking about (and imitating) this so I’m posting it here in an attempt to get it out of my system. James Spader is ridiculous here.

Okay, I will admit Catherine Tate was almost as good.

→ By the way, who is going to be the new boss on The Office? Anyone got the inside dope?

quotation

If you cannot be a poet, be the poem. ↔David Carradine

tune

As you most likely saw above, today is Mike Doughty‘s birthday and as I do every year on this day, I offer you one of his songs. Here’s “Unsingable Name.”

gallimaufry

What a freakishly sad way to go. Seriously, the odds have to be astronomical on this one.

They needed to conduct a study for this? Whatever happened to just chalking things up to common sense?

This dog earned a million dollars a year. I’m betting she earned every penny.

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12.08.09 – A Tuesday

WORD

phlegmatic [fleg-mat-ik] adj. 1. not easily excited to action or display of emotion; apathetic; sluggish 2. self-possessed, calm, or composed 3. of the nature of or abounding in the humor phlegm

BIRTHDAY

Horace (65 BC), Mary Queen of Scots (1542), William C. Durant (1861), Diego Rivera (1886), Sammy Davis Jr. (1925), Jimmy Smith (1925), Flip Wilson (1933), David Carradine (1936), Jim Morrison (1943), Gregg Allman (1947), Gérard Blanc (1947), Bill Bryson (1951), Kim Basinger (1953), Roy Firestone (1953), Sam Kinison (1953), Ann Coulter (1961), Greg Howe (1963), Teri Hatcher (1964), Sinéad O’Connor (1966), Dominic Monaghan (1976)

STANDPOINT

Last night, I watched Allen Iverson’s triumphant return to the Philadelphia 76ers. OK. Well. I watched about 15 minutes of it until I turned on the ultimately disappointing Flyers-Canadiens game.

But, arguably, I watched the most important part of the Sixers-Nuggets game: the introductory hoopla. Philadelphia, a city that three years ago was collectively shoving Iverson out of town, welcomed him home like no one ever wanted him to go anywhere.

The Wachovia Center was sold-out for a basketball game for the first time this year. Actually, the entire crowd last night almost doubled the total sum of the first eight home games. The starting lineup announcements were conducted in a way a 5-15 team, under any other circumstances, could never gotten away with. After being introduced, Iverson ran out to the 76ers logo at half-court, kneeled down and kissed it. (The crowd cheered like that was totally normal.) 

Iverson seemed truly happy. And I, for one, was truly happy for him. I never disliked the guy. I was always in his corner and have been a huge supporter of his return to Philadelphia.

I’ve had about 349 conversations about Iverson since he left town. Each and every time, I was told I was wrong. He was a poison. He was a selfish player. He was a thug. He had to go.

While I never subscribed the above statements, I always granted them creedence. I figured everyone hated Iverson because he was an asshole. Also, I was pretty sure I liked him for the same exact reason.

What I’m having trouble digesting is why,all of a sudden, everyone gives a shit about (a) the Sixers, and (b) Iverson himself.

I need to collect my thoughts on this one. TO BE CONTINUED.

In the meantime, what’s your take?  

QUOTATION

I used to be friends with Miles Davis. He didn’t like many folks. I lived across the street from him. He would call me up sometimes — “I got some fish I wanna cook up for ya.” I went up there, and he was on a couch, looking out the window. He was just rapt. I said, “What’re you watching, Miles?” He said, “The traffic. Where are all these motherfuckers goin’?”Rip Torn

TUNE

In the interest of getting to know someone better, I’ve recently been exposed to more Belle and Sebastian. I was told by that someone “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying” is the band’s best song. Turned out to be the truth.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ After being complete cocks about music piracy and crying about how much money they were losing, it turns out the major record labels (Warner, Sony BMG, EMI and Universal) have been doing a little looting of their own. Justice? Maybe. Well, probably.   

→ While I’m of the opinion most people are complete dolts and unknowingly ruining society, there’s an awful, evil flipside. It appears there are enough smart individuals out there doing what they can to not be outdone by the morons. Case in point? This whole Miranda nonsense in The Supreme Court.

→ While I love to point out the inane crap dominating the media these days, I have an actual pleasure when I read some genuinely good news. Drunk driving deaths in the US are, statistically, on a downward turn. Good job, nitwits. I’m pleased some of you might be coming to your senses.