02.23.11 – a wednesday

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esoteric [es-uhter-ik] adj. 1. understood by or meant for only the select few who have special knowledge or interest; recondite: poetry full of esoteric allusions 2. belonging to the select few 3. private; secret; confidential 4. (of a philosophical doctrine or the like) intended to be revealed only to the initiates of a group: the esoteric doctrines of Pythagoras


W. E. B. Du Bois (1868), Peter Fonda (1940), Patricia Richardson (1951), Howard Jones (1955), Kristin Davis (1965), Emily Blunt (1983), Aziz Ansari (1983), Dakota Fanning (1994)


Since I started this blog, one of my favorite features to write has been The Wishing Well. It’s been a while since the last one, so let’s get to it.

I WISH every time I played Angry Birds I wasn’t reminded of “The Game,” an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation in which the entire crew becomes addicted to a very simple, handheld computer simulation. Once again, the creative folks behind the Star Trek franchise reveal their prognostic talents.

I WISH that when I do actually ignore my better judgement and pay attention to the news, it didn’t make me feel that this planet and the human race are headed toward becoming the universe’s greatest punchline. (I don’t have a link for this entry. There’s just too many to choose from.)

I WISH there was a law that made it legal for people like Tania Head to get pushed down a flight of stairs three times a day. If you think that’s a harsh statement, read this article and tell me you don’t agree.

I WISH I could watch one more Flyers game with my best friend Harv, followed by a beer or two at Dawson Street Pub. (For those of you who don’t know, Harvey died this past November. Sorry to bring the room down but it’s my list, after all, so deal.)

I WISH and I’m counting on all of you to come here tomorrow and read my thoughts on modern-day parenthood, easily the most requested topic among the emails. Come back tomorrow for some more. Thanks for reading.


It is not worth an intelligent man’s time to be in the majority. By definition, there are all ready enough people to do that. ↔ G. H. Hardy


If Mumford & Sons has failed to gain your notice as of yet, you need reevaluate your music listening protocols. Here’s “The Cave.” After you’re done, go listen to the rest of their catalog.


So apparently one of the little girls from the album cover of Smashing Pumpkins’ Siamese Dream is the band’s new bassist. And, get this, she didn’t share that little nugget with her new bandmates until after she was brought on. Truly, the world has gone mad.

→ For all of you who bitch and moan about how you wish you’d never joined a social networking site because you’re just “so over it,” and it’s “beneath” you, here’s instructions on how to delete yourself from some of the more popular ones. Happy trails on your noble path.

→ I wish this email from former US Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld was a fabrication but it’s real. So so so sad.

02.02.10 – A Tuesday


ardor [ahr-der] n. 1. great warmth of feeling; fervor; passion: She spoke persuasively and with ardor 2. intense devotion, eagerness, or enthusiasm; zeal: his well-known ardor for Chinese art 3. burning heat


Solomon R. Guggenheim (1861), James Joyce (1882), Howard Johnson (1897), Ayn Rand (1905), Stan Getz (1927), Tom Smothers (1937), Graham Nash (1942), Farrah Fawcett (1947), Brent Spiner (1949), Christie Brinkley (1954), Shakira (1977)


Last night I heard a story involving a single man and a married woman. To the point, they had a booze-fueled, ill advised night of sexual intimacy. Both the man and the woman are part of a group of people who hang out socially several nights per week.

When I hear such stories, about 284 thoughts race through my head. Is the guy worried about the woman’s husband finding out? Does he panic every time he sees the husband, wondering if the secret if finally out? Does the woman worry about the same thing? In the future, if similar circumstances were to take place, let’s say, ten more times, what percentage of those nights would the two of them commit the same mistake? And would either of them even consider it as such?

But, the idea I struggle with the most, is who, if anyone, is more at fault? Let’s face it. Any time married people cheat on their spouses, however it happens, it’s the ultimate shitty thing to do. On the flip side, a single person who hooks up with a married individual, that’s kind of equally shitty. But, really, who’s more in the wrong? Or are they both essentially and simultaneously bad people?

Seriously, I want to know your take on it. Post a comment and tell me what you think.


It is not worth an intelligent man’s time to be in the majority. By definition, there are all ready enough people to do that. ↔ G. H. Hardy


OK.  I’m not what you’d consider a huge fan of Switchfoot. But, for my money, “Faust, Midas and Myself” is about as kickass a ditty as you can come by. I’ll admit it. I’m a sucker for emphatically sung lyrics completely surrounded by strongly strummed power chords. And when Switchfoot lead singer Jon Foreman belts out the lines, “What direction? Death or action. Life begins at the intersection,” well, I think it’s superb.


Great news, everyone! Once we’ve destroyed this planet, me might be able to pick up and move to a new one. It appears some scientists are close to discovering a planet that may be capable of supporting human life. And that’s pretty sweet because I’d hate to think the human race would throw in the towel after fucking up just one planet. We’re bigger than Earth. We need to take this show on the road and show the rest of the universe what they’ve been missing.

→ I watch television late at night and am always up when the Emergency Broadcasting System message airs. And I constantly wonder why, after all ready grabbing my attention by disrupting my show with long beeps, there’s a need to play the sound of rolling thunder? Is it an attempt to be creative or dramatic or something?

→ Man, remember when the commercials during the Super Bowl were pretty entertaining? (And most years, the highlight of the evening?) Well, we’ve apparently found a way to make it as controversial as just about everything else. Good job, everyone. Our record of turning absolutely nothing into a big fucking problem is still un