Thursday, October 27, 2005
Escapist Fantasy: First Installment
In troubled days such as these, with a dolt on the throne, corruption seeping out of every governmental corner, involved in a futile war in a distant land of our own sad, misguided making, is it any wonder that my mind turns to the occasional diversion? Here's my first thought:
In troubled days such as these, with a dolt on the throne, corruption seeping out of every governmental corner, involved in a futile war in a distant land of our own sad, misguided making, is it any wonder that my mind turns to the occasional diversion? Here's my first thought:
Run Away To Clearwater, FL and Become Scientologists
Pros: *Good Climate, still a 'real' part of Florida
*Excellent Greek food just up the coast in Tarpon Springs
*Scientologist lifestyle seems to work just swell for Hollywood's elite
Cons:*Big tithing commitment
*Don't know if I'm really descended from Thetans
*Must reconcile fact that prophet/founder of my new 'religion' is actually best known for being a science fiction writer.
And it's the last one that really seals it for me. Asimov? Maybe. Vonnegut? No problem. But L. Ron? What a hack!! Still, I always do love a good free streetside IQ test. . .
Teammate Interruptus
It was a good scam while it lasted--OK, it was a lame scam but I've got to respect his moxie. Looking to cash in romantically on Pittsburgh's obsession with its Steelers, local loveless no-good-nik Brian Jackson had some success impersonating Black-and-Gold quarterbacks Ben "Big Ben" Roethlisberger and Brian "4th-String-Taxi-Squad" St. Pierre. It worked for a while until the young lady he set his sports-jaundiced eye upon got wise and Jackson was arrested. His biggest mistake? According to reports Jackson, "told the woman to watch Steelers games so she could see him when he went into the game, police said. When the woman did watch a Steelers game, she saw the real Brian St. Pierre on the screen and realized that Jackson was an impostor, police said. Jackson tried to explain to the woman that he looked "different" on TV, but she asked him not to contact her, police said."
Despite blogosphere mockery of choosing to be St. Pierre, I think he was right. I mean, Big Ben is on TV every week, not to mention in the papers, advertisements, and on magazine covers, countless signs and billboards in Western Pennsylvania. Who the hell could pick St. Pierre out of a line-up? Probably not even Bill Cowher.
And to think, if he had only kept her away from the TV for those few preseason appearances, she'd probably still be dating a "real" Steeler.
It was a good scam while it lasted--OK, it was a lame scam but I've got to respect his moxie. Looking to cash in romantically on Pittsburgh's obsession with its Steelers, local loveless no-good-nik Brian Jackson had some success impersonating Black-and-Gold quarterbacks Ben "Big Ben" Roethlisberger and Brian "4th-String-Taxi-Squad" St. Pierre. It worked for a while until the young lady he set his sports-jaundiced eye upon got wise and Jackson was arrested. His biggest mistake? According to reports Jackson, "told the woman to watch Steelers games so she could see him when he went into the game, police said. When the woman did watch a Steelers game, she saw the real Brian St. Pierre on the screen and realized that Jackson was an impostor, police said. Jackson tried to explain to the woman that he looked "different" on TV, but she asked him not to contact her, police said."
Despite blogosphere mockery of choosing to be St. Pierre, I think he was right. I mean, Big Ben is on TV every week, not to mention in the papers, advertisements, and on magazine covers, countless signs and billboards in Western Pennsylvania. Who the hell could pick St. Pierre out of a line-up? Probably not even Bill Cowher.
And to think, if he had only kept her away from the TV for those few preseason appearances, she'd probably still be dating a "real" Steeler.
Friday, October 21, 2005
How Low They've Fallen
Two riches-to-rags stories caught my attention this week, for their humor as well as the silly journalistic spin they engendered.
First off, we have the trial of Saddam Hussein. In what was apparently a shock, as far as I could tell from the media, Saddam plead "Not Guilty." As if that were a surprise. I mean, really, doesn't everyone more or less plead not guilty at the beginning of a trial whether that happens to be the case or not? It's pretty much how western jurisprudence works. Did observers think Saddam had any reason to do otherwise, especially in a country with a new legal system that instituted the death penalty just for him? And furthermore, he's got about 15-20% of the nation behind him, actually rooting for him. I'd have done the same thing. Overall, I think Saddam's first day in court went pretty well for him. Better than for Saadoun Sughaiyer al-Janabi, one of Saddam's 13 lawyers. He was abducted the evening of the first day and wound up dead.
Now his defense team needs time to regroup and restrategize. The snail-pace speed of this trial will no doubt make the years-long courtroom circus of Slobodan Milosevic look tidy and organized by comparison. But in the end it really doesn't matter, since it's already been pretty much pre-determined that he'll be found guilty and likely executed.
There's a much less pat outcome regarding the status of Ms Elizabeth Paige Laurie, who recently returned her degree to the University of Southern California. OK, well nothing's really in question here, since when you're the granddaughter of Sam Walton you're pretty much guaranteed a cushy existence nevertheless. But it turns out that Ms Laurie, who chose to slum it with the regular proles by living with one of them during her college years, paid her smart-yet-impoverished roommate a cool $20,000 to do all of her homework for her during her stint at USC. The best quote came from the roommate in a 20/20 interview where the allegation first surfaced last year: "She said she learned a great deal by doing Laurie's class work".
My question is, why would she even go public with this in the first place? Technically speaking Ms Martinez committed just as much academic fraud as Ms Laurie, and I would not be at all surprised to learn that at some point in the future USC will quietly suspend her degree as well. And I'm guessing that Ms Martinez might need that degree a little more than her former study buddy to make ends meet in this world (and you can be certain that she's been blackballed at Wal-Mart for life).
Sure, young Paige has had to suffer the indignity of having her name removed from several sports arenas after the sad disclosure, but lest anyone think otherwise, she doesn't need that degree to do anything in her life. For anyone who has the title 'heiress' always preceding her name in print, college is at best a noble pursuit of academic self-interest (which doesn't seem to be the case here), or a lark designed to imply normalcy. Well, that and the opportunity to puke in an ill-lit dormitory bathroom after a night drinking too much trashcan punch in a vile, equally ill-lit, claustrophobic frat house where your feet stick to the unwashed tile floor from the grime and leftover spilled booze of countless parties past.
Not that I'd know anything about that, mind you.
Two riches-to-rags stories caught my attention this week, for their humor as well as the silly journalistic spin they engendered.
First off, we have the trial of Saddam Hussein. In what was apparently a shock, as far as I could tell from the media, Saddam plead "Not Guilty." As if that were a surprise. I mean, really, doesn't everyone more or less plead not guilty at the beginning of a trial whether that happens to be the case or not? It's pretty much how western jurisprudence works. Did observers think Saddam had any reason to do otherwise, especially in a country with a new legal system that instituted the death penalty just for him? And furthermore, he's got about 15-20% of the nation behind him, actually rooting for him. I'd have done the same thing. Overall, I think Saddam's first day in court went pretty well for him. Better than for Saadoun Sughaiyer al-Janabi, one of Saddam's 13 lawyers. He was abducted the evening of the first day and wound up dead.
Now his defense team needs time to regroup and restrategize. The snail-pace speed of this trial will no doubt make the years-long courtroom circus of Slobodan Milosevic look tidy and organized by comparison. But in the end it really doesn't matter, since it's already been pretty much pre-determined that he'll be found guilty and likely executed.
There's a much less pat outcome regarding the status of Ms Elizabeth Paige Laurie, who recently returned her degree to the University of Southern California. OK, well nothing's really in question here, since when you're the granddaughter of Sam Walton you're pretty much guaranteed a cushy existence nevertheless. But it turns out that Ms Laurie, who chose to slum it with the regular proles by living with one of them during her college years, paid her smart-yet-impoverished roommate a cool $20,000 to do all of her homework for her during her stint at USC. The best quote came from the roommate in a 20/20 interview where the allegation first surfaced last year: "She said she learned a great deal by doing Laurie's class work".
My question is, why would she even go public with this in the first place? Technically speaking Ms Martinez committed just as much academic fraud as Ms Laurie, and I would not be at all surprised to learn that at some point in the future USC will quietly suspend her degree as well. And I'm guessing that Ms Martinez might need that degree a little more than her former study buddy to make ends meet in this world (and you can be certain that she's been blackballed at Wal-Mart for life).
Sure, young Paige has had to suffer the indignity of having her name removed from several sports arenas after the sad disclosure, but lest anyone think otherwise, she doesn't need that degree to do anything in her life. For anyone who has the title 'heiress' always preceding her name in print, college is at best a noble pursuit of academic self-interest (which doesn't seem to be the case here), or a lark designed to imply normalcy. Well, that and the opportunity to puke in an ill-lit dormitory bathroom after a night drinking too much trashcan punch in a vile, equally ill-lit, claustrophobic frat house where your feet stick to the unwashed tile floor from the grime and leftover spilled booze of countless parties past.
Not that I'd know anything about that, mind you.
It's Been Far Too Long
Life has a way of intervening in people's projects. OK, admittedly, in my own projects. After months of consistent, studious blogging I let down the handful of readers I managed to loosely amass. Sorry, Kids.
And what a bunch of good bloggable stuff has happened during this hiatus! Karl Rove and Scooter Lewis (both closet readers, I'm sure) have the potential for swinging in the wind any day now, Tom "The Exterminator" DeLay just turned himself in to Travis County officials after being indicted by Ronnie Earle (who loses a few points in my book for not demanding more strenuously that DeLay not be granted bail based on his flight risk potential, but I nitpick) and the most regressive, hard-line cleric of this generation has been elevated to Pope and now wears the mitre and holds the keys over in Vatican City. Latin: It sounds better in the original German!
Oh yeah, and a few serious hurricanes, floods, bombings, and other stuff that should've made these pages but sadly did not. Yet fear not gentle reader (he writes in the singular, admitting there's likely just one of you out there), I'm back.
Life has a way of intervening in people's projects. OK, admittedly, in my own projects. After months of consistent, studious blogging I let down the handful of readers I managed to loosely amass. Sorry, Kids.
And what a bunch of good bloggable stuff has happened during this hiatus! Karl Rove and Scooter Lewis (both closet readers, I'm sure) have the potential for swinging in the wind any day now, Tom "The Exterminator" DeLay just turned himself in to Travis County officials after being indicted by Ronnie Earle (who loses a few points in my book for not demanding more strenuously that DeLay not be granted bail based on his flight risk potential, but I nitpick) and the most regressive, hard-line cleric of this generation has been elevated to Pope and now wears the mitre and holds the keys over in Vatican City. Latin: It sounds better in the original German!
Oh yeah, and a few serious hurricanes, floods, bombings, and other stuff that should've made these pages but sadly did not. Yet fear not gentle reader (he writes in the singular, admitting there's likely just one of you out there), I'm back.
