Envy Me

Attention Impressionable Youngsters: Please Stop Listening To Terrible Music. Also, Give Me Money.

It has recently been brought to my attention by a credible source who shall here be identified only as 'My brother' that I have a larger audience than I previously suspected amongst the future leaders of America. Upon finding this groundbreaking information out, I immediately said 'Huh'. Then I took a nap. But after I woke up, I realized what I had to do. I then promptly forgot, because I am getting old. So, rather than provide you, my youthful-skewing readership demographic, with whatever groundbreaking, completely brilliant thing I was going to write, I instead have a request for you: Please stop listening to terrible music. Also, give me money. I guess it's two requests.

You see, young people, you wield incredible power that you did not know about until I decided to tell you about it in a couple sentences. In fact, you still don't know it unless you decided this whole thing was getting too long, and skipped ahead. You should probably be on Ritalin®. But that is not my point, at least not until I buy stock in the Ritalin Corporation. Instead, my point is that you control the mass media. I know. Doesn't it make you want to flex your hands in pleasure, feeling your newly-stated power coursing through them. Go ahead and do it. Alright, stop flexing them now. After two times you start to look ridiculous. Anyway, there is a very scientific reason for this, and that is that you control the majority of the country's disposable income, barring that possessed by trophy wives, which is wisely spent on silicon products. This spending on the part of the trophy wives leaves you as the controllers of the almighty dollar (Soon to be Yen) in the entertainment industry. Where you get this money to spend is unknown. Perhaps you steal it from your parents' wallets while they are napping. I won't them tell if you give me some of it. But scientific studies have shown that you are the ones with the purchasing power, and what you want is to be entertained. Again, the Ritalin thing.

Now, I am not going to sit here with rose-colored contacts in and tell you that back in the day, everything to do with the music industry was wonderful (Partly because I am lying down as I type this). Indeed, as those of you who were subjected to the on-screen tragi-comedy that was the Super Bowl halftime show would know (At least the ones of you who have been released from the necessary sessions of post-traumatic therapy), I would be blatantly lying if I tried to peddle this to you. Rather, I would relate to you a story from my days when I was a stupid youth, much like you are now. Here we go: When I was a stupid youth, I listened to absolutely TERRIBLE music, much of which (Such as Creed. Especially Creed) is extremely embarrassing and/or nauseating in hindsight. Now that I am older and know everything there is to know, I have much better taste, consisting primarily of bands that no one has ever heard of whose records are impossible to find in stores, and realize the folly of my younger, stupid ways. So please, young people, don't do it for me, do it for your future selves (Note: If you have plans to die within the next couple years, before you start to sprout nose hairs, you may ignore this advice safely): Stop listening to terrible music.

But you are shouting at your computer screen right now, "But HOLLA(R)! How am I supposed to know what music is good and what is horrible?!? I am merely a young person, and therefore stupid!" I know, and that is why you are lucky I am here to help you. Firstly, stop that shouting at the computer. I can't hear you, unless you have broken into my apartment and are reading this on my laptop. If you are doing this, please leave me some money. The first step to telling what music is terrible is checking the band name. If the band name is 'The Black Eyed Peas', the music will be terrible. This also holds true for the name 'Nickelback'. Or 'Panic! At the Disco'. Just to be safe, you should probably ask me before you listen to any music. Ask away. I will handle any and all questions as I receive them.

If you all stop listening to terrible music in unison, young people, then in a few years we may finally see some results from your laudable choice. Why will it take what is a substantial portion of your life thus far to see results? This is because the music industry is run by people who, rather than asking you directly which bands you would like to spend your parents' stolen disposable income on, instead prefer to keep their heads lodged firmly in a place where it is hard for changing cultural taste, or sunshine for that matter, to reach them. But ideally, within several years they will have to remove their heads due to a lack of oxygen, and will notice the masses of young people out there who, instead of choosing to spend their money on terrible music, have decided to give it to me (Hint hint). The resulting shock will probably cause their feeble hearts to give out, and they will be replaced by people who will know how to respond to changing cultural trends. Those who do not surface for oxygen will die of suffocation, which will help to correct this problem in much the same fashion already outlined. Long story short, it's probably worth dropping the cash to reserve a cemetery plot now before they become overcrowded with music executives and you wind up having to share a casket with the creepy guy who lived across the street.

So what have we learned today, young people? Quite a bit, I think. Maybe. But you do not know this, because you skipped directly to the end, rather than reading all the pearls of wisdom I attempted to bestow upon you. So I will now make you an offer: Rather than forcing you to reread everything you have scrolled past, I will send you a recording of me singing the whole thing for the low, low price of $15.99! This offer is not available in stores, and is only good for a limited time. So go on and steal some money from your father's wallet. He keeps it in the left pocket of his jacket. Make sure to get enough for the stamp, too. You'll thank me when you're older and still have your self-respect intact, by which point I will hopefully have made enough money to move to an undisclosed location so that you can't find me to demand a refund.

Sage Advice

So, once again, I found myself at my place of employment. This time in my official capacity as Company Ambassador of Goodwill and Smoked Fish, I was approached by a woman lacking the normal amount of teeth, who seemed to be operating her shopping cart in a rather military fashion (Here I am thinking of "Left! Right!", not banana republics). She hailed me, so I went over to her and her cart, which featured a large number of bottled sodas carefully arranged in a very random fashion, which flew about and smashed together any time she randomly jerked her cart in a different direction, something that happened approximately two times per second. She then asked me "Can I get a bag to put these in so they won't roll around so much? I'll pay for them up front." Now, would I ever question the integrity of strangers? Yes. Yes I would. So, rather than proffer the requested plastic, I arranged them in a more orderly (Read: A) fashion, which would prevent them from rattling more loudly than the velociraptor pen in Jurassic Park every time she changed course. She admired my handiwork, and then said to me "Thanks, man. Don't smoke weed this early in the morning. It's, um, medical. Marijuana. Don't smoke it."

Duly noted.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

So yesterday I was at the fine French dining establishment at which I work (Le Chopparé du Prix), and we were somewhat busy. As a result of this, I required a certain amount of refortification, here defined as caffeine. To achieve this end, I went over to our coffee shop on my break, only to find that they were out of French roast! Rather than curse my place on this mortal coil, I chose to loiter conspicuously in the area while a new urn was brewed. Whilst I whiled away the time, an elderly gentleman came up to the counter and asked for a senior coffee (Presumably he wanted fresh coffee at a reduced price for some sort of senior discount, as I do not believe coffee ages in the same fashion as fine wine), and was informed that Le Chopparé du Prix does not have this sort of price reduction at the coffee shop. Having been thwarted thusly, the gentleman determined that the only recourse left to him was to turn to me and announce "Why don't you go to war and learn what freedom's all about? You don't have the guts!" While this did nothing to solve either his or my caffeine-related dilemmas, it certainly made me wonder what in the world was going on, and whether that had actually just happened. He kindly ended my befuddlement by repeating his statement verbatim. Seeing as how the customer is always right, I responded with a straightforward "You're right. I don't." I am nothing if not a good company man.

Now, this leaves me with a few questions. Firstly, does he go around saying this to people everywhere on a daily basis? Or was this triggered by some sort of disappointment over not getting a prix reduction on his coffee? If so, how does he handle any sort of major disappointment? Pistols at dawn, perhaps. But more importantly, this gentleman bore most of the major signs of getting up there in years, from seemingly being slightly hard of hearing to walking slowly to facial wrinkling, which means he's very fortunate that I am an ambassador of goodwill while on the clock. Because I think I could have taken him.

Things That Are Funnier Than Jay Leno

Sadly, this list shall be, by necessity, far from comprehensive. Feel free to add any glaring omissions in the comments. With that in mind, here we go:

Bill Murray
Brian Doyle-Murray
Pearls Before Swine
The Aqua Teen Hunger Force Christmas album
Seeing somebody get kicked in the balls
Getting kicked in the balls
A song I heard a stoned hippy singing at a bake sale about apple muffins
The Masturbating Bear
The fact that NBC is projected to lose $200,000,000 on the Olympics
The fact that NBC will not show any of the Olympic events live
And will broadcast them 3 hours later on the west coast than on the east coast
Even though the Olympics are in Vancouver
This dream I had once about a talking chalupa
The Budweiser frogs
Jury duty (The movie)
Jury duty (Being selected for it)
Jimmy Kimmel pretending to be Jay Leno
Intestinal parasites
The ending to Romeo and Juliet
Paris Hilton's singing career
A death in the family
One of Leno's cars breaking down
The local news
The phoneless cord
Spam
Evan Almighty
This list
The FJM archives
Christopher Walken's spoken word version of 'Poker Face'
Tim McCarver
Narcolepsy
Hitting your thumb with a hammer
The Nixon-Kennedy debates
On second thought, not Tim McCarver
Analogies involving the Battle of Trafalgar
Paying the electric bill
Flying monkeys
Amputation
Snooki
Massive blunt-force head trauma
The gout
Ranger Rick, the magazine
Mark Trail
Sitting on a tack
Norm MacDonald's post-SNL career
Dan Quayle jokes in 2010
Seriously, can you believe that guy was Vice President?
He was so dumb!
Fitviavi mold
Pet rock
Crunchy frog
Drunken Joe Namath
AIDS

Current Events

Congrats, cousin Chris. According to the Center for Statistics I Just Made Up, 55% of all marriages end in annulment, so if you make it to next week, you're ahead of the game.

Up In The Air, And The Increasing Trend Of Filmmakers Lying

I saw Up In the Air yesterday, now that it's been out for something like six months and has garnered a bunch of nominations for some awards show that will probably be both boring and televised. Ever since I saw a preview for it, the movie was on my radar as One To Watch, Ideally In A Theater. Yesterday I did this. That's just how on the ball I am. Anyway, it was very good, and I recommend it to everyone who is not Isaac (As a wise man once said, this movie has naughty language!). George Clooney stars as A Charming Character, and performs his role very well (Who would've thought Clooney could be charming?!?). The performances are all quite good, and the script is great. So, yeah. I'm not a movie critic (As you can probably tell, I'm not really trying), and this is not why I've called you here today. Why have I called you here? Well, I'll tell you, in new paragraph form.

No, why I am writing today is the fact that, w/r/t Up In the Air, I was deceived. You see, Up In the Air has a very intriguing preview, which is only made better by the fact that it is set to 'The Passenger' by Iggy Pop, which is awesome. Not only is it set to this song, Iggy actually (From what I've heard) re-recorded a version of the song specifically for this film. And yet, the song does not appear in the movie. As George Steinbrenner would say, #$!&* the heck?!? Instead, we are treated to a variety of music than can be described nicely as 'twee', about what you'd expect from a production crew that was in some way involved in Juno (I'm too lazy to look up what the exact connection is). Still, I can even see not putting the song in the bulk of the film, as it is a fairly driving piece, which might overwhelm whatever else is happening on-screen at the time (Not that it does this in the previews, but let's be charitable here). But, then, isn't that what the ending credits are for? Not in this case, as halfway through the credits the song playing ends, giving us a perfect moment to bring on the Iggy. Instead, we are treated to some crappy acoustic number evidently recorded by Fisher Price™ tape recorder, closing things out on a bit of an anticlimax.

Most troublingly, this is not the first time this has happened to me in the last year. I'd estimate I go to see somewhere between one and two movies in the theater annually, and the last two have now played this exact same deceitful sleight of hand on me. The other film in question is Where the Wild Things Are, a movie whose trailer was set to a rerecording of The Arcade Fire's stunning Wake Up, a song which perfectly fit the mood and got me so amped up that you'd think it was a motivational speech by Rex Ryan. And then, again, not present in the movie. Lame. So what gives, filmmakers? Yes, your movies are good (At least the ones I bother to see. I suspect Tooth Fairy, starring Dwayne Johnson (a.k.a. The Rock) will not be on the level of Citizen Kane). But why the lying? Why must you pull the old Three-Card Monte in your previews? Because I give you my word that, if I find a certain combination of music and imagery exhilarating on the small screen, I will not suddenly be put to sleep when I see it on a screen the size of my apartment. In fact, it might even be better. At the least, it will be bigger and louder, which I thought was what Hollywood did these days.

Hall of Fame Voting: Bring on the Stupid

As the two of you who care about baseball already know, the Hall of Fame results were announced this week. Congratulations to Andre Dawson, the sole inductee. I wouldn't have voted for him, but his inclusion is hardly some kind of horrible miscarriage of baseball-specific justice. Now, Hall of Fame voting, beyond meaning imminent elections, also signals another venerable tradition: The sportswriter's column detailing his/her (Usually his) reasoning for the players voted for. Many voter take this process very seriously, and submit ballots which, while they may be disagreed with, are well-considered and rationally explained. Then there are the morons who probably submitted ballots marked with drool stains. These are more fun to mock. So here come the dumbest HoF articles I have been able to find so far this year (We may have a special post on this within the next week, as Bill Plaschke has not yet written a HoF column, and I'm sure when he does that it will be riddled with idiocy). Let us begin.

First up, blowhard Jay Mariotti, who submitted a blank ballot, and then justified his voting thusly on the excruciatingly terrible TV show Around the Horn:

I didn’t vote for anybody in the baseball hall of fame this year. Ya know why? To me…the first ballot is sacred. I think Roberto Alomar is an eventual Hall of Famer, not the first time. [snip] As far as Blyleven and Dawson…if they haven’t gotten in for years and years I cannot vote them in now. Ripken, Rickey Henderson and Gwynn. They are true first ballot Hall of Famers, but I didn’t vote for anybody, throw me out of the Baseball Writers. I don’t care.

Now, let it be noted that, in addition to this line of thinking being moronic, the BBWAA rules makes no distinction between first-ballot years and the other 14 years players are on the ballot. But more importantly, he has voted for Blyleven and Dawson in the past. Apparently their numbers in 2009 were bad enough to drop them off his ballot. Or is it a moral stand? Well, last year Mariotti voted for Jim Rice in his 15th year on that ballot. So maybe it's just that Mariotti is an attention whore whose moral stands change based on how many cameras are pointed at him at any given moment. I think they should take him up on the offer he closes that quote with.

Next up, the 973-year-old Murray Chass, who states that he did not vote for Blyleven because

As good as Blyleven was in winning 287 games, he had some of his worst years when his team had good years. The best example of that dichotomy came in 1988 when the Twins finished second with a 91-71 record while Blyleven had a 10-17 record and a 5.43 e.r.a.

That's right, Murray voted against Blyleven because he had a bad year in his 19th big league season, one in which he reportedly pitched through shoulder soreness all year. The next season Blyleven finished fourth in the Cy Young voting. The fun bit? People like Murray Chass who clearly lie with statistics are the ones who like to throw out accusations that statistics lie. Anyway, this is dumb. Even Murray should be able to recognize that.

Moving on to Jon Heyman, whose HoF article has so many odd twists and turns in the methodology that it almost feels like he has some sort of multiple personality disorder:

I don't put quite the same emphasis as some on career statistics, especially in cases where I've had the chance to follow a player's entire career as it was unfolding, as was the case with this year's entire ballot. (That happens when you get old.)

I consider impact more than stats. I like dominance over durability. I prefer players who were great at some point to the ones who were merely very good for a very long time. [snip] Some will say that Blyleven's career was equal to Hall of Famer Don Sutton's but I say it is just short of Sutton's. They both had big totals in other categories but Sutton wound up with 37 more victories, going over the magic 300 mark by 24.

So if Bert had won 13 more games, you'd vote for him? Jon, you do realize you're allowed to proofread these things before you hand them in to remove contradictory statements, right? No? Alright then.

And now for everyone's favorite whipping boy, Dan Shaughnessy. Picking apart Dan is really like shooting fish in a barrel, so we'll be quick here. Dan's HoF voting process:

Each Hall voter applies his own standards, and mine often references the famous line that Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart applied to pornography. Stewart argued that he might not be able to define what was pornographic, "but I know it when I see it.''

For me, it's the same with Hall of Famers. Some guys just strike you as Cooperstown-worthy and others do not.

Dan, Stewart was roundly mocked for saying that because, well, it's stupid. If you really want to use that as your standard, go right ahead. But you might be a bigger blowhard than Mariotti.

And finally, let's wrap up with Bill Conlin, who dropped this bit of genius on us:

I voted for Tim Raines his first year of eligibility. But when he failed to get 25 percent of the vote, he was moved to the back burner. Sorry, that’s just the way it has to be. Maybe more eligible ballwriters should have measured the Rock’s career numbers in all phases against those of analog basestealer and first-ballot inductee Lou Brock. Try it, you’ll be amazed.

Good news for Raines, however. Yesterday, in one of the most bizarre elections in a bizarre process, he collected 30 percent and is now back on my radar.

So, Bill, you're criticizing the electorate for not voting for Raines, who you believe is worthy of being enshrined in Cooperstown, and then state that YOU DID NOT VOTE FOR HIM THIS YEAR BECAUSE A LARGE PERCENTAGE OF THE ELECTORATE DID NOT VOTE FOR HIM IN THE PAST. In what dark recess of your tiny little addled mind does this make even a [Mount Kilimanjaro] bit of sense? Holy [Hummingbird], this takes the cake. You have out-dumbed Shaughnessy. Good God.

Okay, I think that's out of my system. Finally, let's close with a bit of intelligence from Ken Rosenthal, who yesterday wrote a column suggesting that the BBWAA needs to get rid of some of the voters who do not do the HoF voting process justice. Ken, preach on. I would like to submit the above five voters as fine choices to be the first kicked out.

Note - My apologies to the many fine candidates who did not make the final cut to five, especially Marty Noble, who withheld his vote from Alomar because Roberto had two bad years with the Mets, whom Noble covers. Keep on trying, Marty, and you just might make the cut next year.

Tonight on Jay Leno

Coming up in an hour, Jay has Kim Kardashian and Jillian Michaels as guests. So, if you're keeping score at home, that's one guest just as talentless as Jay, with the whorishness a wash as well (She had a sex tape released to the internet, he had 24 separate product placements during the 22 minutes of the first episode of his new show), and one guest who looks like this:


She is a fitness trainer on The Biggest Loser, which I have been subjected to enough of to know that the above picture is a reasonable representation of her personality. And as her job title would suggest, she is rather ridiculously in shape. So now, let us pray that she takes advantage of her close proximity to two talentless hacks tonight to forcibly remove their heads from their torsos using only her bare hands. Please, Jillian. For myself, and America. And the children. Think of the children.

People Who Should Die: The SchoolInPJs.com Girl

My apartment is a very modern facility which features both electric lighting and indoor plumbing, so it should be no surprise to you, the reader, to learn that Tivo™ is also present in this veritable treasure trove of technology. I use this service to record many things, all of which are The Daily Show and Good Eats, which I then proceed to not watch until the Tivo™'s hard drive is full, at which point it yells at me to erase them. I usually do, as I do not wish to anger Tivo™. I have found that Tivo™ has other uses besides being a deposit box for unwatched videos, however, as I recently also used it to watch an episode of The Daily Show. And, based on a fairly omnipresent commercial aired during the broadcast, this apparently makes me a sucker with disposable income. Because there is no way a website called Schoolinpjs.com is not a scam. So going forward here, I'm simply going to assume the website in question is not an accredited university*.

*I did a minute amount of research on The Google and found claims that the website in question is owned by Kaplan University, which it conveniently refers people to. Kaplan, in turn, is owned by the Washington Post. What does this all mean? No idea.

I'm not even going to link to the ad here. If you want to see it, you can find it yourself. Suffice to say that it is beyond obnoxious, as the girl greets us wearing pajamas and fluffy slippers, but in a shocking twist, it turns out she's going to college! My God! This will revolutionize everything! Because lord knows people who don't want to leave the house to go to school will absolutely galvanize the workforce once they have their degrees! We are also given, in between repetitions of the website address (Which is also conveniently displayed at the bottom of the screen for the entire ad until it permanently burns itself into your TV screen) bits of HILARIOUS humor. Such as when she advises guys to "Cover up, please". OH NO SHE DIDN'T! You see, it's funny because it's true! I'm not wearing any clothes right now! Time to scratch myself! Where's my spittoon?!? Look here, wench. I hope your pink fluffy slippers catch fire and the flames then ignite a previously undetected gas leak which causes your house to explode. And your final thought will be that you could have avoided this if you went to a real college. Die.