It Ain't Much, But It's All I've Got Left

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

FLM
"Hello. I'm Johnny Cash."

Okay, you caught me: I'm not Johnny Cash. Doesn't mean I can't get drunk on whiskey, pretend his death made me want to finally drop my steel drivin' hammer, and walk around the house alone, saying somberly, "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash."

That's about what watching Walk The Line will do for you. It'll make you wish that you were the man in black, even though Johnny himself clearly wanted to shed his skin at least half the time.

The flick has its flaws. Cash was a broad-shouldered country boy, not a cleft-lipped waif. But supposedly Cash himself had a hand in choosing Joaquin Phoenix to play him, and the actor brings genuine momentum and confusion to the role, along with a talent for lip-synching that allows us to make the leap of faith as much as can be expected (although every time Joaquin so much as touches a guitar, some girl's head in the audience mysteriously blocks our view.)

Overall, the film never quite lives up to the expectations you built when you saw the preview with Joaquin/Johnny pointing his guitar "bang!" like a gun on the Folsom Prison stage. And, because your early country and western stars only had so many paths they could travel, the plot reads like a knockoff of last year's Ray: hard country work, dead brother, stardom, pills, flashbacks, acceptance, resurrection.

But, along with a performance you never thought Reece Witherspoon could pull off, Walk The Line provides one thing no other film will.

It makes you walk around in your undies at one in the morning, clear your throat, and confess to your cat,

"Hello. I'm Johnny Cash."

SPRT
Okay, thank you, I know the Niners are terrible. That seemed to be the point, finally, of their game this week: to prove that, "on any given Sunday," the local squad can hang with a division leader -- or cave to a cellar dweller. But their latest collapse had the following upshots:

1) Jeremy Newberry has finally been told to go home and get fixed, meaning he'll get a couple of pieces of dried-out kitchen sponge surgically inserted between his knee bone and his other knee bone, as well as all his various shoulder bones, all of which have been smashed around and rearranged to rub on each other as much as possible.
1-A) Newberry's absence means that Eric Heitman shuffles over to center, leaving rookie draftee David Baas to enter the starting lineup at guard. With Adam Snyder and Justin Smiley performing reasonably well, Kwame Harris and poor coaching are now the only excuses for the Niners' miserable running game and atrocious pass protection.

2) Alex Smith finally gets to step in for Ken Dorsey. Between Dorsey and Smith, there's a good quarteback to be had: take Dorsey's calm leadership and check-down skills, and add Smith's arm and legs. Until that surgical graft is possible, we'll just have to take it on faith that Smith lacks only experience on his road to leadership.

In the meantime, the leftover quarterback -- the one with Smith's panicky glare and fumblitis and Dorsey's ridiculous lack of physical talent -- is now the worst player in history.

MR

QWTOFDY
"Show my head to the people; it is worth seeing."
-Last words of Georges Jacques Danton

You Could Look It Up

The name of NL closer Billy Wagner's agent is Bean Stringfellow.

A Little Hot Stove Spittle

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

SPRT
I guess I was wrong about Matt Morris. While teams line up to throw money at A.J. Burnett (49-50 career), Morris (101-62) is quietly fielding a modest three-year offer from a single National League team (a few AL teams are said to also be interested.) We all know Burnett's stuff is near tops in the game, not counting Seattle Superfreak Felix Hernandez. But I don't see Burnett going 52-12 on his new team to catch up to Morris.

In short: Matt Morris's beard -- which in football would only cost him fifteen yards, for unsportsmanlike conduct -- is now costing him millions of dollars.

Other MLB bargains to watch for:

Okay, at $24 million over the next two years, there's no way Javy Vazquez is a bargain... but he's officially on the block, just like he wanted. After a tale-of-two-halves 2004 with the Yankees, Vazquez was puzzlingly inconsistent again last year, mixing in a "gem" or two with a "bombed," and finishing 11-15, 4.42. But his peripheral numbers (a hit an inning and a 4-to-1 strikeout to walk ratio) remain strong, except for his homers (35) and won-lost record, both of which can largely be explained by looking at where he was pitching. Two hundred-plus innings six years running -- you can't imagine how highly teams value a number like that -- for a guy with command and strikeout ability.

Elsewhere on the rumor mill:

Kevin Mench for Corey Patterson: a good deal for both teams.

Milton Bradley to be non-tendered: another reason the Dodgers have no idea. It was a bad idea to bring him in, given the nutbags they already had -- and it's a worse one to let him go. Someone with a good clubhouse who can weather his tantrums -- say, the Braves -- is going to get a very good all-around player for cheap.

The Rockies say they want José Mesa to close for them: Oh, good Lord.

MR

QWTOFDY
"Why is it that nobody understands me, but everybody likes me?"
-Albert Einstein

Gorilla Batch

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

FOOD
I spoil you.

But, the fine Ms. Brita Rosenheim (no, not Jewish) has been accepted into Food Appreciator School For The Italian and the Future Mrs. Italian, with a concentration in Food Appreciation, and to honor her we reprint four of Martin's secret Guerilla Bachelor recipe successes.

Now remember, I was off in Buttass, France when I did this installment (oh yes, there shall be more, for I have eaten well tonight! Those cookbook writer imbeciles wouldn't know a creole sauce if it crawddidled their gonads) so if you don't recognize the ingredients or aren't interested in the dish, skip on to the next. These were meant to be entertaining as well as a possible guide, so don't send me the bill for your stomach pump, and try not to reflect on why someone might have not only time to cook for himself from scratch, but time to write it all down after.

MR

QWTOFDY
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

-Pablo Neruda

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

STOLEN FROM THE MANUSCRIPT of the GUERILLA BACHELOR

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

RECIPE ONE: Fried Mixed Spinach Pasta Thing With Some Egg Or Not

INGREDIENTS:

1 pkg “Original schwäbische Maultaschen” (four pieces) *(it’s this big spinach filled pasta, like a ‘roided ravioli – if you don’t happen to live on the French-German border, be creative – use spinach ravioli. I’m not your frickin’ ma.)

1 sweet yellow pepper (key ingredient!)

1/2 white / yellow onion

2 cloves garlic

Salt, pepper, cayenne spice to taste (not much cayenne required); basil/etc. optional


INSTRUCTIONS:

Boil some water. Chop the veggies while you wait. Boil the weird pasta things for about five minutes. Then you cut them into small bite size pieces, and fry them in some olive oil with the other stuff.

EXTRA RECIPE, maybe better than the first: make enough for leftovers, add two or three eggs, even a little parmesan or regular cheese; eat for breakfast.





RECIPE TWO: Baked German Noodlen Thing, Alsacian Style** (**will work also for Schpatzle; I don’t know what the original Noodlen thing was, I already threw out the package. Schpatzle is also great and is made, so I’m told, from a simple mix of flour, an egg or two, a pinch of salt, a pot of boiling water. In what amounts exactly is, sadly, a guarded secret. So mix carefully: the wrong mixture can produce a voluble explosive.)


INGREDIENTS:

1 pkg of these very thick pasta things, like large gnocchi but I think they were just pasta. They’re designed to be fried, and they stay soft on the inside.

One whole onion…

…And some garlic. As always.

Some light bbq or other spices; salt and pepper

1-2 Potatoes I imagine (you’re on your own here, I didn’t have any – ditto mushrooms)

Grated Emmental or commensurate cheese (Swiss / Cheddar mix would be good)

Sliced gouda or jack

2 eggs, optional

1-2 pieces rye bread

Bit of olive oil in the pan I’d say


INSTRUCTIONS:

You fry up the shits like you’re supposed to, with the garlic and perhaps the onions. Takes up to 10 min. Crumble the rye bread into homemade breadcrumbs. This goes great. Grate the Emmental / Swiss if not done already. Presumably you boil the potatoes? and chop.
Once the shit is fried, add some more onion and mix together everything but the eggs and sliced cheese in a deep baking pan. Flatten or top off the surface. Then lay the slices of cheese on top, and crack the eggs on top of that.
Bake all at about 175º C for 15-20 minutes and it’ll come out perfect. If you’re reading in American, well, water freezes at 0º C = 32º F, and boils at 100º C = 212º F. (Seems like their system’s a lot smarter, non?) That’s all you need to know; you took algebra.
(Okay, since my own mom can’t do that one, a big fat hint: ºF = ºC x 1.8 + 32. That’s all I’m saying. All temperatures approximate anyway.)





RECIPE: CHICKEN PARM

INGREDIENTS:

Some chickens, preferably dead. Veals work too. Ya heard?

Parmesan

Other cheese, sliced – I’m using shredded emmental with sliced gouda again

1 can tomato sauce, kind you like (with parm I suppose – mine’s arrabiata)

1 onion and maybe 3-4 garlics… duh

The 2 slices rye bread

An egg

Bit o’ flour

Bit o’ olive oil and vinegar, too; optional; ditto hot sauce (just a pinch!)

Bit o’ milk

Spices: basil, rosemary, cayenne, salt, pepper, do you notice I didn’t exactly go wild on the spice rack?


INSTRUCTIONS:

Preheat to maybe 200 Celcius.
Beat the chickens soundly to tenderize them. (Okay, actually this is just for fun. But if they bawk, or moo, you’ve got problems.) Do the two pieces of rye bread along with the garlic and onions, finely chopped, and what spices you like, for the homemade breadcrumbs. Add some flour to make it stick to the birds (don’t forget the killing, plucking, filleting – or most housecats will do this cheaper than you’d think) – perhaps 1/3 part flour to 1 part crumbled bread.
Do the eggs, milk, and optional hot sauce / oil and vin in a little scramble. Dip birds (makes about 3) into eggies and swish around a lot, then roll in breadcrumbs until both sides completely doused. Stick bottom sides up on a cheap ceramic plate because you don’t have a baking pan.
Let bake for maybe 15 minutes. Then flip, add tons of parm and tomato sauce, topped by sliced (and perhaps shredded) cheese. Then let bake some more – roughly forever, so far. **Reader should note, cut into the chicks periodically to see they’re getting cooked. Author assumes no legal responsibility for following this recipe blindly. That is to say, they’re still cooking now, and if I keel over mid-curveball Sunday from Salmonella, consider deleting this item from the record.
(Editor’s note II: no way, José. Make the whole thing just like I told you. Takes a good 30-40 minutes though. Gives you time to learn a new lick on guitar, or to write this. I’d say an even 400º F.) Remember, chicken parm’s hard to screw up, and makes good eatin’s day after. Just make sure the chickens die good, and make it as sloppy as possible.
And I suppose you should first fry the breadcrumbs to a crisp, or sit around and let them stale a couple of days, or something. Hell, the loaf was starting to mold as it was. Anyway, what do I know, I’m just the author.
PS – And did you know it takes rotten bananas for banana bread? Which I’ve usually got on hand; if only I knew the rest of the recipe. Actually I still wouldn’t make it. We’re on meals here.

Serve with Johnny Walker Red Label, neat, water back. Or a choice local red, if you actually have a god damned corkscrew on hand.




RECIPE: Delicious Salad I.

This salad does not take a genius.

INGREDIENTS / INSTRUCTIONS:

Lettuce; I use iceberg but you could do butter, spinach probably, whatever you like. Just remember to wash it – it keeps for a week out here but open it up and it’s absolutely filthy with black grit (where do they grow these things, in the ground?)
Avocado. Half should do. Sliced close.
Fry two egg whites, with some salt and pepper. You’ll thank me later.
Some sliced cucumber.
Onion. What would it be without onion.
Chopped carrot. If that’s your thing. Or shredded, if you can’t decide.
Touch o’ grated cheese. Something exotic but not too.
Olive oil and vinegar: I like it near even but I know most prefer a 3:2 in favor of the oil.

Congratulations.

What I Learned In Gym Class

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

SPRT
You know, there's a telling statistic for most any game. Tonight's Phoenix - Golden State game it was this: the Suns went plus-twelve on assists to turnovers, and the Warriors minus-five. You know those two teams, and you look at that, and you can see the whole game in your mind.

The high school football game I covered today for a local second-banana outfit is told more like this: the visitors won the first half 24-0, and lost the second only 23-0.

I love the language -- both the lingo and the numbers -- that springs from these ungeekly endeavors. I still say, if you show me the right guy's numbers, and we're talking baseball here, I can tell you how old he is, where he's from, righty or lefty: basically pick him out of a lineup.

So, for posterity: favorite old-school players, no particular order.

Dwight Gooden
Will Clark
Andres Big Cat Galarraga
Jack Morris
Andre the Hawk Dawson
Eric Davis

...Eric Davis, this dude was incredible. We're talking about a man who stole 50 bases in a season, who scored 120 runs, knocked in 100, went 30-30... but NEVER reached as many as five hundred at-bats. An awesome fielder, and a bat so quick he had to jerk off for two tenths of a second to kill time. Imagine going to an L.A. high school that had to play against him and Darryl Strawberry.

It's late. I'm putting on porn and passing out.

MR

QWTOFDY
"I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man."
-George Meredith

The Oh, Really? Factor

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

TV
Bill O'Reilly has a good idea. The conservative talk show host whose innovative on-air ideas have included flooding the United Nations Building, "and I wouldn't have rescued them," now says that, since San Francisco has voted not to allow military recruiters to buy a place in local schools, the city should be bombed off the map.

"Fine. You want to be your own country?" asks O'Reilly. "Go right ahead. And if al Qaeda comes in... and blows you up, we're not going to do anything about it... You want to blow up the Coit Tower? Go ahead."

I think this is a fine notion. I've long been for starting my own country anyway, although mine was going to be called The Sandwich Country. Since I already live here, this will save me the trouble.

After all, what strikes you as a better target for terrorists, Coit Tower or Times Square?

Of course, O'Reilly's supporters are, one imagines, the type of citizens whose idea of a local landmark is the Ten Commandments obelisk on the courthouse lawn, or perhaps the '79 Camaro on cinder blocks down the road a piece.

But I'm all for it. Let's get all the hippies, the grungies, the radicals, the peaceniks, the beatniks, the artists, and the anarchists on one side of the wall. We'll put O'Reilly safely on the other side, along with Tom DeLay, Bill Frist, Dick Cheney, Rupert Murdoch, and notables from the Wall Street Journal, Halliburton (oops, I've already said Dick Cheney), and Exxon.

Then we tell both the patchouli smokers and the gun toters to drive as many SUV's and wave as many American flags as they please.

We'll see who gets hit first.

POL
The Cheney-Haliburton point still rankles, and I want to address it. Tell me if this strikes you as a conflict of interest.

Halliburton, sufficiently described as "a very large corporation," is one of the companies who has profitted the most from 9/11 and the mess in Iraq, which ARE related... now. I'm compelled to mention that when a company of this magnitude pulls in the kind of contracts they do, safety and workmanship have been known to give way to a ruthless bottom-line mentality.

If this is already too much for you, please reach for your remote and turn back to O'Reilly at this time.

Now, because there are only so many companies of this size, they can often cut corners and get away with it. If a dollar bill falls under my car seat, I reach for it... but when Halliburton's shoddy work results in the US owing Iraq over $200 million to redo it, the causes and effects are lost in red tape.

Oh, and remember when Halliburton charged us almost the same figure for feeding American troops and civilians? Yeah, they didn't do that; they simply pocketed it until an investigation uncovered the theft.

Some of these are no-bid contracts. Clearly the government either has no alternative to Halliburton at all -- and San Francisco alone is home to one, a massive conglomerate called Bechtel -- or Halliburton curries some major favor in a certain white house.

Perhaps this will clarify: every year Richard Cheney, who is our Vice President, draws a bigger salary from Halliburton than he does from the United States.

Sound like a conflict of interest at all? Well, Halliburton's people are very clear on this. You see, they've taken out a policy that insures Cheney will continue to get money even if they fail to draw a profit, or go under altogether. The logic is, that means he has no stake in keeping them afloat.

Therefore he is completely unbiased. Like the Supreme Court judge, who shall remain nameless, sharing a duck blind with other people who -- because I can't remember who it was -- shall also remain nameless, even though one was hearing a criminal case against the other. Antonin Scalia, the judge who shall remain nameless, insisted this was not improper because... well, there's no way it's not improper, so the reason doesn't matter; you just have to say something, anything.

These are the patriots. These are the people you should be inviting to your yoga class.

These are the people that will have major airports named after them.

I'm looking at you, National.

Will José Guillen and Livan "Fat Ass" Hernandez soon play for the Washington Cheneys?

Ooommmmmmmm.......

MR

QWTOFDY
"Every man is his own doctor of divinity, in the last resort."
-Robert Louis Stevenson

One For The Gipper

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

POL
Vindication! Californians follow the dictates of obscure blogger Martin Rowicky and vote 'No' on anything chadlike in the vicinity.

Good and bad news follows this manna. We're dealing with the mind of the Governor here. And it's tricky going.

At least he figured out the gist: "It was the law of supply and demand," he concluded. "There was plenty of supply of initiatives, but not the demand."

That about sums it up, unless we're to suppose that 0-for-8 is sheer coincidence. The bad news came when some well-meaning reporter asked if he -- Arnold, Governor Schwarzenegger -- would do anything differently. He replied:

"If I was to make another Terminator movie, I would tell Terminator to travel back in time to tell Arnold not to have another special election."

Oh.

Remember Robin Williams' line, something about Reagan really believing he was in a movie?

Now, to show you who stands where, after what amounts to a Democratic landslide the tone in Sacramento is said to be civil and calm. A freakin' miracle.

There have, naturally, been a few calls for the Governator to aplogize for his misguided deeds. Believe it or not, I'm fine without the apology.

Of course, I do want my $45 million back.

SPRT
May: Rafael Palmeiro tests positive for Stanizolol, a steroid that's only used for exactly what you think it's used for.

All summer: Palmeiro is allowed to appeal the finding before it's disclosed to the public; he appeals but presents no compelling evidence.

August: We're told he's juicing. It leaks that Stanizolol was the substance, making it open-and-shut. Palmeiro begs the public to wait for his side of the story.

September: Palmeiro suggests the findings are due to tainted vitamins supplied by Orioles teammate Miguel Tejada. A confused Tejada replies, "Water fucky say?" Palmeiro, thought two months earlier to be a Hall Of Famer, is instructed by one of the most inept (or, least ept) franchises in pro sports not to bother coming back.

October: Playoffs. White Sox win World Series.

November: Palmeiro admits to testing positive for Stanizolol.

So who says athletes aren't role models? I'm heading off right now to phone Eagles coach Andy Reid on the Super-Secret Red Line. If he doesn't let T.O. back, with a raise, I'm going to hold my breath until I turn blue.

If that doesn't work, I can always apologize.

PS
Want an actual, compelling reason to watch the Niners? Center Jeremy Newberry has played the entire season with no cartilege in his knee, meaning he's bone-on-bone in there every play against the three hundred pounders. Now he's got a separated left shoulder -- and a separated right shoulder, to match.

Newberry does concede he may need some time off later in the season. But not now, during the playoff crush.

MR

QWTOFDY
"Man is so perfectible and corruptible he can become a fool through good sense."
-Georg C. Lichtenberg

Stay Off The BQE, Salim Ahmed

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

POL
So, the highest court in the land bucks the administration -- again, where were these people, three, four, and, ESPECIALLY, five years ago? -- by agreeing to hear from, of all people, Osama bin Laden's driver, Salim Ahmed Hamdan, on possible governmental human rights violations.

The decision to take the case at all is groundbreaking, and already tramples the administration's endgame goals. On the other hand, in the fine print, an odd twist: the Supremes will only hear evidence pertaining to those being held at Gitmo and elsewhere around the globe who have been CHARGED with crimes.

That makes nine. Out of an estimated five hundred.

Chew on that.

POL
And if the 9/11 report, the OJ trial, or my roommate's parking ticket protests are any indication, this case should drag on long enough for Bush to appoint and confirm the deciding vote himself.

Democracy: the worst system of government ever put into practice... with the exception of all the other ones. (See: Capitalism.)

SPRT
Great, now everybody's going to want to know what you think about Terrell Owens. In a word, good fucking riddance. Vindication! It's never felt so good to be a Niners fan.

Except when they were, you know, not the worst team in the league.

SPRT
DEAR COACH NOLAN,

Please, do not start Mr. Dorsey on his tender ankle this weekend. Mr. Dorsey, while a very nice guy, is perhaps the worst quarterback since Jim Druckenmiller. And he can't tow a pickup with a rope around his waist like Drunkenkiller could.

You want rope? Start the cowboy. Good story, good body, minimum of fuckups.

Coincidence?: Here it is the halfway point of the season, and the number of quarterbacks on the Niners roster who have thrown a touchdown pass this season is EXACTLY THE SAME as the number of gerbils Richard Gere admits to having shoved up his ass.

SPRT
Another question you'd rather not field: the NBA's new dress code.

Yes, the code is racist at heart. But more importantly, dissing a poor, gang-infused audience to court the Personal Seat Liscense crowd will not boost merchandise sales like league bigwigs expect.

And, racism or no, the bottom line is once again the bottom line.

Perhaps they need to pound the global market even harder. Line of the week: Andrei Kirilenko, Utah, yesterday: 20 points, 8 boards, 5 assists, 7 blocks. If Mehmet Okur (31 points) is for real, this team is a point guard away from being very tough.

Sleeper of the week: Everybody's saying this, but Texas TJ Ford, Michael Redd, and the Milwaukee Bucks.

Snoozer of the week: You're the Hawks. You go into the season's first halftime up ten, then yield 75 second half points and get blown out by the Warriors. How can you justify THREE flagrant fouls? This is a team with an acute awareness of how bad it is.

POL
A correction on my last entry. I guess McCain was actually FOR the Proposition, and Wapner AGAINST. Still, getting it mixed up just proves my own point.

SPRT
And finally, this will be known as the week when we thought, really thought, that the Dodgers would make Kim Ng the first female General Manager. Says here they hire a black or Hispanic and get reamed, once again, in the press and on the field.

Meanwhile, the Burger King king is superimposed catching a touchdown for the Dallas Cowboys.

As if you needed another reason to cut out the Whoppers.

MR

QWTOFDY
"Never tell the truth to people who are not worthy of it. "
-Mark Twain

Title

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

POL
Let's see if I've got this right.

1) Prince Charles and Non-Princess Camilla are coming to my smurfy little town of San Francisco. This is an important event, because Charles and Camilla are the heirs to the British throne, which is a lot like wearing a big pointy hat in the middle of Rome: completely futile, yet showered with unimaginable wealth.

Meanwhile, our own President Bush, who could be described quite the same way (if you'll spot me a moment of uncharacteristic generosity) has never, and will never, come anywhere near my backward little burg.

I guess he still has enough stray eggs from his first inauguration.

2) Last night, I found myself asking the serious question, "Who do I trust more, Senator John McCain, or Judge Wapner?" McCain was featured in a TV spot warning me against letting retired judges tackle redistricting. Wapner, whose People's Court is indirectly responsible for me wasting 1,240 hours of my college life watching Jerry Springer, says emphatically that I should trust the retired judges.

A Vietnam vet, albeit a Republican, or a retired TV judge. Tough to call. What would the Kindergarten Cop do?

3) Speaking of McCain -- who still gets my vote over most Democrats; how 'bout a McCain-Edwards ticket in '08? -- he's behind a bill now being weighed by the House of Representatives. McCain's fellow senators have already passed the bill, which concerns defense appropriations ("money for guns"), by a 90-9 margin, a winning percentage not seen since Warriors opponents in the post-Webber era.

Why is the bill so popular? Well, aside from including a lot of money for a bigger lot of guns, the bill bans the "cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment" of prisoners held anywhere in the world by the United States government.

That, of course, is a pretty extreme measure. And must be stopped.

Luckily, CIA Director Porter Goss, who was named for a highly transmutable foot fungus, and Vice President Dick Cheney have already tried to badger McCain into scuttling the torture provision. Also, the Bush White House has vigorously opposed the provision at every pass, and will likely veto the whole thing because of it. You know how dearly Bush likes money for guns, so it's nice to see him put our interests ahead of his own by holding out for our right to lovingly rub disfiguring chemicals on the recoiling penises of uncomprehending inmates who might, possibly, have been combatants for some kind of enemy.

SPRT
Much like the Ess Eff Baseball Giants, the Niners are playing cat-and-mouse with virtual elimination, barely halfway through their season. The truth is that, perhaps like the Bonds injury, the Niners' loss to the Redskins (or perhaps their breaking training camp at all) pretty much foretells a gruesome and fast-approaching death.

But, for the ratings, and because I know you're not going to church, let's say that after last week's upset, this week's game against the New York Football Giants will be an important litmus test.

Critics say a litmus test won't win the West. But what do they know? It might even get them on the Supreme Court.

SPRT
Speaking of local boys, ten minutes ago, after watching Adonnal Foyle botch four plays straight, I e-mailed a friend that Warrior rookie Chris Taft would start at center this season. Five minutes ago, the game five minutes old, Taft is called in.

The Warriors are an exciting team this year, and understand how to play. You know how local sports gets you into following the league nationwide, and I think it's gonna be awesome to follow the NBA this year. Plus, these guys are all such good athletes -- usually, even two or three on the worst teams -- that if you see a game down close, it's hard to go back.

MR

PS
Remember, for all of you Cauliflowernians, Tuesday is Vote Day. If, like me, you don't understand most of the propostions or why we're having this election in the first place, remember that evil Republicans are counting on you to stay home. Do your civic duty, if needs be, by going out (or writing in) and voting 'No' on everything.

Really. It makes a difference.

QWTOFDY
"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."
-Sir Isaac Newton

Real Brown Vomit

MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE

FEMA
Did you get this Brown thing? I can't stay on it too long. Google it.

The gist is: when the hurricane hit -- and many of his underlings were already on the ground in Mississippi and Louisiana, crisis managing -- FEMA Director Mike Brown exchanged a volley of emails with his deputy director of public affairs. So, yes -- they actually did put this unbelievable bullshit in writing, which should tell you something about the kind of saps we're dealing with.

To wit: This lady, named Cindy Taylor, yes-manned a message declaring, "My eyes must certainly be deceiving me. You look fabulous -- and I'm not talking the makeup."

To which Brown actually replied: "I got it at Nordstroms. Are you proud of me? Can I quit now? Can I go home?" An hour later, he sent a follow-up: "If you'll look at my lovely FEMA attire, you'll really vomit. I am a fashion god."

Brown, you'll remember, still admits no wrongdoing. Reports that the last message also included a picture of Brown in his FEMA attire, including a stretched-out pair of Hanes briefs adorning his head, have not been confirmed.

ART
No, Brown does not have a brother named Ezekiel Rubottom, and the two were not separated at birth. In fact, there's no evidence they've ever met. However, Rubottom, a 21-year-old resident of Lawrence, Kansas, does seem to share Brown's famously tasteful design sensibilities, as well as his knack for viewing deficiencies in a positive light.

Rubottom (also no relation to RuPaul) had a club foot, which he eventually had amputated. Wishing to keep the foot as a memento -- the practice is more common than you'd think; many people, including the author, have pieces of themselves floating in jars at home -- Rubottom dropped the foot into a bucket of formaldehyde and left the bucket on his front porch.

When a neighbor complained about the display -- fearing the foot was evidence of a violent crime -- getting a picture yet of life in Lawrence, Kansas? -- Rubottom objected. He had added a porcelain horse and a can of beer to his bucket, and now found himself defending his collection as "a collage of myself."

Actually, that beats Brown by a lot: I see myself in much the same way.

Don't you?

MR

QWTOFDY
"Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl; someday I'm gonna make her mine."
-Last line ever recorded in studio by the Beatles