Every now and then I hear about a celebrity who has given his/her baby one of those names that makes you squint. I recently heard that actor Jason Lee named his son Pilot Inspektor. Pilot Inspektor. And that's Inspektor with a k, because, you know, using a c wouldn't be unique enough.

I have a soft spot for Rob Morrow because he portrayed Dr. Fleischman in the great Northern Exposure, but when I read that he named his daughter Tu, I had to pause and reconsider. Yes, her name is Tu Morrow. Sigh...I still love ya, Rob, but...

Names like this aren't really cute, and you can't really say they're cool when they're rooted in nothing historical or meaningful, save for maybe a desire on the parents' part to draw even more attention to themselves, or perhaps to take credit for what they think is cute or clever even though at best these names can be described as quasi-cute, quasi-clever. What is it that inspires the famous and/or insanely wealthy to brand their young with these embarrassing appelations? Theories, please.

I mean, what could possibly have possessed magician Penn Jillette to name his daughter Moxie CrimeFighter? Or how about Shannyn Sossamon's baby Audio Science? Yes, Audio Science. Can somebody please deck her for me? Thaaanks...

Then there's Courtney Cox and David Arquette, who chose a popular puppy name, Coco. That's Coco Cox Arquette. Maybe these names are just selfishness at work, if not egomania. It would take some doing to convince me that in some of these examples the parents had the kid's best interests in mind. And it's a safe bet that in most cases, by the time these kids are adults, they'll go by something else.

I have a theory. I think that most celebrities are thin on talent. Not necessarily those named above, but I think any real examination into the world of acting in particular would reveal a plurality of creative and intellectual vacuity. And so they strive to show the world that they're "artists", and this is what "artists" do. I can name my baby Maxtreme Poopypants or Lolipop Goddess because that's the sort of thing "we" do. And it might get us an invite to David Letterman just when our careers are beginning to sag.

Okay okay okay, Yes. Many actors who have given their children squint-worthy names have an abundance of extraordinary talent. Bruce Willis ain't short on the gift. He has one thing that most actors wish they had—gravitas. So when I heard he named his kids Tallulah and Scout, I didn't think much of it. I wouldn't have picked 'em, but at least they're, you know...namey. Uma Thurman and Ethan Hawke named their kid Levi Roan Green Hawke. I'd have guessed that was a new line of jeans before I'd guess it was a person's name. I'm sure there a many other fitting examples.

But Pilot Inspektor?

By The Way...

Someone with a lot of time on his hands has created a fake movie preview for a "feel good hit of the summer"-type of film...using brief scenes culled from The Shining. It's clever and good for a chuckle. Check it out.

I think the death of Rosa Parks is a genuinely sad day for the country. The shit that went on in those days was insane, and it's pretty beautiful that with such a small gesture, she was able to make millions of assholes look like, you know, assholes. Maybe the most influential seat ever taken. I wonder if the cushion has been on Ebay.

Speaking of asses, this is what happens when you add 2 quarts of stupidity and 2 pints of bad parenting to your sperm and eggs.

Labels: commentary

Something has been bugging me for a while and it's time to let it out. There seems to be a lot of confusion about enumerative adverbs. I often hear people say, "first of all...(whatever)...and second of all...(whatever)..." I've even heard people say "third of all". Now, to say first of all makes perfect sense. First of all other whatevers in a given context. But I think "second of all" sounds a bit off. Especially when the word secondly is available. Even "firstly" works, even if it sounds a bit archaic. "Thirdly" is acceptable but that's as far as you can go with the ly suffix. "Fourthly" ought to get you some funny looks and eager corrections. So "thirdly" acts as an acceptable boundary between these words. But you don't hear that one often. I've heard "third of all" more often than I've heard "thirdly".

But why not just say "first,...(whatever)..." and "second...(whatever)..."? Works fine, one less sound to make. And it opens up THE WHOLE RANGE O' NUMBERS. You can say "first, the President's continued cronyism is alienating even some of his most staunch supporters, and second, I think those pregnant pauses in his speech suggest a tired, fragmented mind." That just sounds better than first of all, second of all, etc. And again, it's not limiting.

And Another Thing

I've had about enough of the bullshit. What bullshit? Bullshit like this. Look at the clever way this is written, and presented as objective journalism. This is a pervasive trend. Some say a 40-year trend. So I guess it's our fault that Pakistanis are suffering as a result of an earthquake. Pakistan is complaining about our $50 million aid package...calling it insulting. How much did Pakistan offer for Katrina relief? $1 million, through the Red Cross. Global hypocrisy. Probably more dangerous than a Global flu.

The U.S. did more to help the victims of the tsunami than any other country. The U.S. always does more to help than any other country. Anti-U.S. propaganda has done more to spread anti-American sentiment than our foreign policy. The U.S. has acted fast to help these Earthquake victims—while we have our own cleanup morass to deal with—and yet the lies and distortions fly around the globe. We're sending aid even though this is the country most believed to be providing safe harbor to osama bin laden. Meanwhile, I wonder how much Al Qaeda will contribute to the relief effort?

There's an outbreak, for sure. Of opinion disguised as facts, and agendas disguised as news angles. Yea yea, from both "sides".

Oh, And...

I've had enough of the mysteriously disappearing sock thing. I have more unmatched socks than...than...is there even an analogy available for this? No, because I'm the only person on Earth whose socks get up, pack a lunch, and leave on their own volition. I know my dog's not eating them because my dog's not pooping them. I know I'm not sleepwalking and discarding singular socks as I encounter them. They're not hidden at the bottom of a pile, and I'm not accidentally including them in my outgoing mail. There is simply no explanation. We're talking paranormal activity here, folks.

Any ideas?

...Help meh...

Labels: commentary

Sometimes, when the world is abuzz with grave concerns like avian flu and terrorism and hurricane after hurricane and rising deficits and missing nukes, it's nice to see that there are some out there who are deeply concerned about, well, lesser things. Easier things. Things such as, you know, society's unfair assumptions of the oboist. Know what I mean? It's just good to see. It's refreshing. Makes you wanna sit back and grin a little, maybe with some tea. Pet a cat. Read some Hesse. Have a scone.

And it's also nice to see that, when the world is frantically preparing for a pandemic, racing to find and produce vaccines, and biotech companies are racing for the prize that is a cure for cancer and diabetes and other nasty things, there are also smart folks out there researching the rectal pressure of penguins. In their study, "Pressures produced when penguins poo: Calculations on avian defaecation", (Link to PDF) Victor Benno Meyer-Rochow and Jozsef Gal conclude that:

"the pressures regularly produced by penguins to expel their faeces on land are considerably greater [than in humans], possibly reaching half an atmosphere. All birds, penguins included, spend a considerable time preening and cleaning their feathers. It seems therefore that these birds propel their faeces as far away as possible (with a minimum amount of effort) lest they soil their plumage."

Here's an excerpt from the study:

It's just nice to see this sort of thing. Let's know our world, and penguin poo is part of the pantomime.

It's also nice to see that terrorists are secretly complaining about a lack of funds and coordination. Hey, maybe this approach is...working...? (By the way, not a bad speech on terrorism, Mr. President, although I know you didn't write it. You should have made this speech a looong time ago. You blew it.)

And it's good to see that Bill Watterson has issued "The Complete Calvin & Hobbes", one of the best comics of all time; a comic that still, more than a decade after turning the lights out, puts to shame every piece of shit "comic" that you'll find in your local paper's "funny pages". This is not opinion, Mr. or Mrs. reader. Watterson stokes the imagination like only a few in the biz ever have—Gary Larson (Far Side) and Berkley Breathed (Bloom County/Outland) are right there, but for me, Calvin & Hobbes was, and is, it. I'm so going to buy this.

And as for chuckles, this is good to see. As is this. And finally, it's good to see there's an easy way to bust some bubble wrap, even if just for a few seconds.

Labels: commentary

Is the world ready for carbonated yogurt? Sigh...probably...

So I Googled the word thingy and was pleased to see that this site is the #8 result. I wasn't even expecting to be on page fourteen, let alone page one. Hoo-ah! This might not seem like a big deal, but in a tiny, tiny way, it's huge.

Anyone else think that we might regret writing a $250 billion check to one of the most corrupt cities in the U.S.? There had better be some serious auditing in place. And a full auditing of the audits.

I'd love it if the Hollywood elitists like Ariana Huffington and Laurie David would get off their anti-SUV crusades and realize that they consume more fuel and belch more filth into the air with one cross country junket in their private jets than an SUV can produce in a year. That would be nice.

Last year Nikki tried in vain to get me to watch LOST. I had seen the trailer. A plane crashes and the survivors are trapped on a tropical island. Oh now that hasn't been done before...And of course there are some really attractive chicks on board, a requirement of all castaway situations. And of course the hotties survive unscathed. One of them is even (very) pregnant and all she has is a little motion sickness or whatever. Yea, that could happen. So I read that book by its cover, so to speak.

I admit, I was wrong. It's an interesting show, and it has its claws in me. Those problems I mentioned, if they are problems, don't matter. The interesting thing is, inside this cliche wrapper— a plane crash and a cast of hot castaways and a beautiful island in the middle of nowhere, is a truly unique show. I'm hooked, I tell you. Hooked.

Rummaging through old photos, I found this picture of me, circa 1977. Has this ever happened to you...where you see something you haven't seen in such a long time that a flood of associated memories comes back to you all at once? Well, this photo was like Proust's madeleine for me...I remember opening Grover. I remember what it felt like to have my hand in his head. I remember what his nose tasted like (like the smell of the inside of a rubber ball). I remember getting gum stuck in his fur a few days after Christmas. I remember my mom having to cut the gum out of the fur for me. I remember that Evel Knievel motorcycle. I remember that train set near my knee there. Man, what a haul O' goods. Score...

The Hollywood myth of sinking in quicksand is just a Hollywood myth. "Research has shown that it is impossible for people to sink into quicksand much beyond the waist..." They're talking about it as if it's some new discovery of theirs. Hey guys, The MythBusters exposed this last season.