Friday, March 13, 2009

Revenge. Sweet Awkward Revenge.



If you're anything like me, this left you with your jaw on the coffee table and your toes curled in awkward silence. John Stewart, who Cramer stupidly called, 'just a comedian' and host of a 'variety show' is a better investigative journalist than roughly 99% of people who actually call themselves investigative journalist. Cramer walked onto the stage looking to bury the hatchet early, telling Stewart he was a big fan of the show. Everything was cordial up to the first commercial break, but when they came back things had changed. Stewart went through a list of gripes he had against Cramer - accusing him and the CNBC family of being cheerleaders for corporate hacks like AIG - and each time Cramer denied it, Stewart rolled tape showing Cramer saying disturbing and slimy things in a 2006 video. The worst part was watching Cramer squirm, and have little to no response for these things. At times he looked like a worried puppy being disciplined by a large man. He didn't really defend himself or try to yell his way out - FOX or MSNBC style - and at the end offered up an apology and said he'd try to do better, which I'm sure was reassuring to the millions of people already hurt by the poor judgement of Cramer and his CNBC lackeys. All throughout the interview I kept wondering how Cramer is going to even have a career after this. Also, Stewart gets my vote of person I most want to interview George Bush someday. When the Daily show ended I had nothing left for Stephen Cobert, only my bed, from which I stared for a long, long time at the ceiling.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Good Riddance

Just wanted to take a moment, on this, the last day of February, to say farewell to the month that causes me the most soul-crushing heartache. The one month that makes global warming seem welcoming. February you are the August of Winter - the other arm-pit of the calendar. Though you are here for the shortest of any month, you have the ability to freeze time with your icy heart. Somehow January never seems as cruel as you. You're a sadistic teacher handing out a huge homework assignment as the final bell before Spring Break rings. You're the basketball coach winning by thirty who refuses to pull out the starting five, even in the waining minutes of the game. But alas, even as I type these words, today you are taking your final, frigid breaths, coughing up sleet and snow on your deathbed.

So now we say goodbye to warming up the car for twenty minutes before work, and hello to rolling down the windows. Sure, sure, March is as moody as an unmedicated bi-polar girlfriend, but at least we know it's trying. While the economy may be crumbling, at least we know it will soon be much more pleasant to stand outside for hours in a bread line. Spring is on it's way, and that's change we can believe in.

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Five Worst "News" Personalities In The World


1. Nancy Grace - The lone woman on the list, Grace is a social experiment for what happens when you bring a film crew into a mildly-retarded, meth-addicts Winnebago. You can't flip past CNN's Headline News without seeing her make-up caked mug, and infomercial-esque backdrop with the words "Where's Haleigh?" plastered across the screen. The two best words that sum up Grace are dumb and scary. In an interview with a post-traumatic teen, Elizabeth Smart, she repeatedly asks her inappropriate questions - "You were afraid I'm sure?", "Obviously you would've handled this better if you were an adult", "How did you see through that burka?" - even as a visibly upset Smart continuously asked her to stop. In 2006, Grace interviewed Melinda Duckett, baggering and accusing the barely responsive women of killing her missing son. The next day Duckett shot herself - which is exactly what I feel like doing every time I come across Grace. Simply the worst.


2. Bill O' Reilly - Everybody's favorite loofa-loving, pathological liar. The Fox Noise scumbag has done everything from threatening to beat-down Jeremy Glick, the son of a 9/11 victim, to more recently mocking and comparing respected 88-year-old journalist Helen Thomas to a wicked witch. He went on to add that there was little difference between Thomas asking the president a question, and his own mother. O'Reilly's favorite tactic is to yell at you for 10 minutes without a single fact to back himself up. Then as soon as the interview is over, and for the next several days, he'll say that you were unable to admit how unbelievably wrong you were, despite the overwhelming mountain of evidence he had against you. Though he's hard to take, one suspects he doesn't even believe half the vile he spews, it's about ratings and he knows how to get 'em. This alone keeps him from ranking higher on the list - that and the fact that the Oberman, Maddow team is consistently crushing him these days in the ratings war.

3. Glen Beck - Glen 'The End is Nigh' Beck constantly criticizes Global Warming as a scam while predicting that within five-years there will be an American Civil War led by armed, crackpot, militia men. Glen is so serious about this that he will sometimes show us his hands so we can see they are shaking, on-air. He reports that the military is well aware of the approaching meltdown, and that it is all being driven by Obama's desire to lead us down the path of Communism. Glen has admitted to a past riddled with drug abuse, and anyone brave enough to look into his coked-out, spooky eyes will find themselves reminded of being accosted on the street by wacked-out homeless people. While talking heads like O'Reilly are the kind you want to punch on instinct, Beck brings out the side of yourself that makes you want to run like Hell, followed by a scalding hot shower.

4. Shawn Hannity - Because Hannity is in the dark shadow of Papa Bear O'Reilly, he often has to act even more outrageous and depraved then his counterpart. Civilized conversation isn't in Hannity's repertoire, and he's gotten even more pathetic since both Obama was elected, and his whipping-boy, Colmes left the show. Despite his wildly hallucinogenic claim to be "Fair and Balanced," recent evidence has come to light that Fox has been using GOP talking points and passing them off as their own reporting. A surprise to absolutely no one.

5. Alan Colmes - Fox News' perfect idea of a liberal patsy. Colmes, who has been a whiny, badly-dressed, doormat for Hannity for years, has recently stricken out on his own to be a whiny, badly-dressed doormat for every future conservative guest to come on his show. Colmes is the kid in junior high who is so desperate to be cool that he'll let the jocks copy off his homework all day, while convincing himself that they shove him into lockers after school because they like him. He's been bitch-slapped by conservatives so many times, it's like watching Tyson in the ring with a handicapped child. It's this kind of pipsqueakery that gives liberalism a bad name.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

More to come...

So I have totally slacked a bit on the blog this week, but don't give up hope just yet! First of all I'd like to blame an exceptionally exhausting week for my failures, and secondly the album Microcastle by Deerhunter for being so good that I just want to keep listening to it instead of fulfilling my blogging duties. So to make it up to you I promise that my next two posts are going to be in the form of lists, and everybody loves lists! Right? Coming this week is the Travis' Top 5 Worst News/Noise Personalities!!! As the kids say these days, it's gonna be the bomb.
In other news if you haven't checked out the lovely new photo blog www.districttwilight.blogspot.com then now is your chance. Seriously, you've got a couple days until my next post, so what else are you going to do with you life? Also, stay tuned for the upcoming joint venture between myself and Kendra Rubinfeld - Break From The Chains - a site which will feature reviews, interviews and other cool stuff having to do with non-chain, local businesses here in the DC area. I know there is a lot to look forward to, and all this breath-holding can't be healthy, so relax already, go outside for a while or something. Sheesh.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Crazy Funny or Crazy Crazy

Joaquin Phoenix's recent appearance on Letterman has understandably raised a lot of eyebrows. Throughout the interview a disheveled and heavily bearded Phoenix answers Letterman's questions by giving monosyllabic mumbles or by saying nothing at all. The star of Walk the Line and the just released Two Lovers, alternates between despondency and being aggravated by questions that he is being asked about a movie he's there to promote, at one point even sticking his gum to the bottom of Dave's desk. He goes on to tell Letterman and the audience that he is giving up acting to pursue a career in hip-hop. This seems to make sense given another recent video to surface of the actor on stage attempting to rap (emphasis on attempting) before falling off said stage.
So what's up with Phoenix? For one thing, we know that he has been in rehab in the past. We also know his own brother River Phoenix died of a drug overdose and often appeared disheveled and erratic himself. But here's the kicker - we also know that Phoenix is being followed around by his brother-in-law Casey Affleck, as well as a film crew. Affleck is apparently filming a movie about Phoenix's move from film to music. All this begs the question - was Phoenix's appearance on Letterman a joke? Is Affleck's "documentary" really going to be a mockumentary? The persona that Phoenix showed us in the interview had the makings of Andy Kaufman all over it, no doubt, and pay special attention to the end of the interview. Before walking off stage he says, "good job" to Dave, takes off his sunglasses and smiles. This begs the second question as to whether or not Dave was in on the joke. In the first couple minutes it looks very well like he could be, but as things go even further downhill it's hard to tell whether his cutting wit is out of frustration or just part of the gag. If it turns out that he is part of it, job well done, and if he isn't, then he's indeed very good at his job. Only time will tell if we are witnessing one of our generations better actors fall extremely hard from grace (and the occasional stage) or if he's playing his greatest part yet. Me, I'm betting on this being one funny movie.



Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Dear Major League Baseball

I didn’t always hate you, really, I didn’t. I even used to defend you. When my friends would complain that the season was too long, the games too slow, boring, I stood up for you. Boring? I would scoff, maybe to someone with a small mind, someone unable to enjoy the complexities of unrehearsed drama unfolding before their eyes. While kids in school were on the court trying to ‘be like mike’ or drinking Sprite like Grant Hill, I was at the batting cages practicing my George Brett swing, pumping my gums full of Big League Chew. When the NBA began epitomizing the corporate culture of cool in sports, I resisted like a flaming Tibetan monk, opting for the unhip world of the major leagues. Baseball was almost punk rock in that way. In the early nineties it began to be seen as so unappealing and old-hat that still being passionate about it felt authentic – like record collectors eschewing CDs or driving a fuel-efficient Volvo in a world of SUVs. I held fast to the belief that baseball would come back in fashion and I could hold my head up high, knowing I’d always been there, always believed.
But baseball, you sold me out. You were like two seemingly happy parents who one day, out of the blue, tell their children that they are getting a divorce. You were always there for me, until you weren’t there at all. But then, like any child who begins to un-repress the past, I began to see where the clouds first started materializing, those little details, seemingly so unimportant start looking like cracks in the dam. I remember those weeks leading up to the first Player’s Union strike, how unconcerned I was at the time, how naïve I had been. Even when you did go on strike I never gave up hope. If the Major Leaguers were too greedy to play ball, then lets get the minor leaguers in there, I thought. Why not give the guys who were playing out of love a chance? Sure, the quality would go down to some degree, but at least I would be watching something real, something passionate. But alas, you settled your disagreement, made bank, and went on quietly with life.
And then out of nowhere, my freshman year of college you came back, begging for forgiveness. You gave us Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa and the battle to break Roger Maris’ homerun record. You were in primetime, on the front page, people gossiped around the water cooler, made bets, got excited again. After that stellar season however, something started stinking worse than Barry Bond’s jock in late August. All of a sudden records started falling like drunks skating on ice. Players on the brink of retirement were coming back looking like Roman Gods. If you lived anywhere near a baseball stadium it was best to stay in the basement for fear a stray homerun ball would come smashing through your living room window. People speculated of course. Were the balls juiced? Has pitching gone downhill? Maybe the air is just thinner than it used to be? It seemed everyone wanted to look anywhere but the most obvious place.
Baseball was an American game, rife with clichés about past-times and wholesomeness, tradition, fathers and sons and magical lifesaving Babe Ruth homeruns. My best-friend and I used to sit on the steps of his house and trade Don Mattinglys and Wade Boggs for Ken Griffeys and Jose Cansecos. Growing up in Kansas, the one thing that summer always assured us, aside from tornadoes, were Little League games and trips to Royal’s Stadium. Baseball was my religion – Hank Aaron, Joe DiMaggio, Ted Williams, my Gods. Baseball had Jackie Robinson. It broke barriers that the NBA and the NFL never dreamed of. What other sport could inspire a movie like Field of Dreams? What other movie could Kevin Costner not make horrendous? – okay, fine, Bull Durham, another baseball movie.
But the sad truth was baseball had eaten itself alive. In a desperate attempt to win back the fans it lost during the strike, it turned into something despicable. The recent A-Rod steroid admission should surprise absolutely no one. This problem isn’t just confined to the Major Leagues or its stars; it’s an epidemic. Baseball has completely re-defined itself; what was once a sport of subtleties and nuances is now dominated by powerful bat-wielding behemoths. If that’s what it takes to make it to the Majors than you can guarantee that this is happening on other levels. If the Yankees are filled with substance-abusing monsters, than you can pretty much guarantee the farm teams are too. If the minor leaguers are doping, then so are the college kids and sadly, the high school kids. This is your fault, Baseball. You did it to yourself. When the new kid moved into town and you lost some of your popularity, you came back with a new toy to impress us but that toy wasn’t yours, you stole it. You cheated and we all caught you.
The saddest thing of all is how you betrayed those of us who stuck with you when you first fell on hard times. The irony is we are the ones you’ll never get back. Now baseball, you will either go the way of marginal sports in America like hockey and soccer, or you will get your act together one day. Maybe you will clean house of all the Bud Seligs, Alex Rodriguezs, discourage any future Barry Bonds or Jose Cansecos and make yourself whole. The fact remains however, that you will never be pure again. The doping scandal was for you, what Watergate was for the presidency - permanently unleashing the cynicism of the American populace. Either route you take, whether you fade into obscurity or transform yourself, I don’t care.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Of Course It Would Be a Water Bong

So upon waking this morning I had a complete change of heart and decided to dedicate this blog solely to the stomach contents of Jessica Simpson! But then I saw this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ldlrgmt26L8 and now I'm afraid of her. So it looks like we're back to the boring old news blog idea :(
But wait! What's that? Pop culture calling again to save the day?!? Oh Michael Phelps... How you annoyed me for the last six months or so but all of a sudden I find myself very much in your corner. I was getting real sick of hearing all those interviews about how hard you worked to get where you are today. Not because I am in someway jealous of your accomplishments but because I am lazy and lazy people don't like hearing about how hard you have to work to become successful - and seriously if I have to look at your stupid, perfect abs one more time...
But now there's this! Phelps hitting the bong! I'm sorry, was that pre or post 15 hour workout? And just imagine the lung capacity this guy has! In all seriousness though, I'm feeling pretty bad for Phelps right now. He was just banned from the American swim time for Christ sakes! The media has shown us the photos and shook their mighty heads to let us know that this is just a sad, sad thing. Another hero has fallen. Instead, shouldn't this beg the question as to why we have the drug laws that we have? Doesn't this somehow highlight how incredibly small-minded the war on drugs is? He's not taking steroids or doing something addictive like crack (or Sudoku). If this picture had been of Phelps doing a keg stand there wouldn't have been nearly this much flak given there is nothing illegal about drinking but I for one will always prefer the easy-going stoned guy at the party to the backwards cap keg stand guy. I mean, aside from the legality issue, what argument can anyone possibly make that says Michael Phelps shouldn't be smoking pot? Speeding is illegal and had Phelps gotten a ticket for driving too fast would there be this much fuss? Of course not! Try this one and see how stupid you sound - "If Michael Phelps wasn't such a pot head he could achieve more in life." This is the most decorated medalist in the history of the Olympics, a once-in-a-lifetime-athlete, a person who is clearly aware of what his body can do for him, who are we to tell him what is a healthy choice and what is not? Michael Phelps could smoke pot everyday for six months and still swim laps around any prosecutor or member of the media looking down on him for this. But don't get your hopes up about this starting some national conversation. America is as invested in the drug war as ever, spending billions of dollars on airplanes and pesticides to poison destitute farmer's fields in Central America and imprisoning non-violent American offenders, instead of, you know, actually putting some money into crumbling schools where many of those "offenders" first learned that the government doesn't really care about them... but I digress. The point is if you think America's going to loosen up any time soon when it comes to this, well (Phelps, take note) don't hold your breath.