Category: No Politics Friday

From the 2006 World Cup (ps HOLY CRAP I have been doing this for a long time).

This is what makes soccer so farcical and unwatchable to the average American:

1. Player One slide-tackles Player Two, making minor leg-to-leg contact

2. Player Two goes limp and crumples to the turf in a near-perfect (and no doubt well-rehearsed) re-enactment of Frame 323 of the Zapruder film

3. Player Two grabs his calf/shin/ankle and makes a grimacing face as though he is attempting to defecate a shattered beer bottle

4. Player One throws up his arms, gesturing a combination of "I'm innocent" and "This man is an enormous vagina" to the crowd, followed by "Surely you aren't buying this horseshit" to the ref (who is always from a neutral yet vaguely dislikeable country, usually Argentina)

5. A team of doctors rush over to Player Two with a stretcher, neck brace, donor kidney, gas cromatograph, and the Jaws of Life.

6. After carrying Player Two off the field on said stretcher, he waits until the crowd's attention is diverted back to the game before getting up, walking it off for about 10 feet, and then "heroically" re-joining the action moments after his near-crippling injury.
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Let me add a couple of questions that continue to plague me:

Why is there a clock? It operates in the wrong direction and seemingly at random, being ignored by everyone on the field and seemingly having no effect on the game whatsoever.

Why do goaltenders wear neutral colors?
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Why are fans allowed to employ whatever kind of noisemaking implement they choose? This would be like having a basketball game where everyone in the stadium had a whistle.

Why are substitutions treated like the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns?

Help me understand, soccer people.

My brutish, ignorant American mind does not get it.

So I grew a 56-day playoff beard for the Blackhawks and I was not about to shave it without maximizing the entertainment potential inherent in facial hair.
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It seemed appropriate to honor my favorite presidential facial hair, that of Chester A. Arthur.

Please try to control yourself upon discovering how attractive I am.
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Most people with a half-decent interest in presidential elections know that facial hair has mandatory between approximately 1850 and 1920 but almost nonexistent outside of that time period. HuffPo has a short slideshow refresher course on some of the more impressive instances of Executive beardage, or you could stop being a dilettante and go for the ridiculously thorough catalog of mustaches, beards, sideburns, and stray mole hairs among presidents as well as presidential candidates by Nicholas Whyte.

While Mr. Whyte does note that no "serious" candidates have had facial hair since 1948 (Thomas Dewey) there have been some quasi-serious ones.

Libertarian candidate Bob Barr was nominated by the American Mustache Institute (which apparently is real) for its (I shit you not) "Robert Goulet Mustached American of the Year Award" in 2008.

This is an actual thing.

What is behind the modern aversion to facial hair? Yes, mustaches make 99.9% of their wearers look like registered sex offenders, meth dealers, or state troopers. But older men can sometimes look more stately with a beard. Something odd like bushy sideburns could also make a no-name candidate stand out from the pack. I am not holding my breath, but I hope that facial hair becomes politically acceptable again at some point in the reasonably near future.

I don't want to live in a country that wouldn't elect James A. Garfield on account of his massive, bushy beard or, even worse, a political system that would scare him out of growing one in the first place.

Yesterday was the 45th anniversary of the first American spacewalk by Ed White (who would die in the Apollo 1 fire shortly after).

Having been beaten by Soviet Alexey Leonov (March 18) there's no particular significance to White's activity except that the basic concept of a person orbiting the Earth is, you know, mind blowing.

It's depressing that we're so jaded and used to space exploration that no one really pays attention anymore. It's just a thing that happens, every bit as exciting as the building of a new strip mall. Yes, I understand that we can't really afford the space program anymore. Yes, I realize that there's not much of a point to sending actual humans into space when unmanned vehicles (Two robot posts this week. What the hell.) can do every aspect of spaceflight for which there is a legitimate need. But it's cool. It's too bad that we can't afford to do cool things just because they're cool anymore. It's too bad that we can't set goals as a nation and high-five one another when "we" achieve them. I guess we can still do that one, but the goals are depressing things like "I hope we can plug that gushing oil well before the entire ocean dies" or "Maybe we can wrap up one of these wars in the next couple of years."

It's never fun when you have to come to grips with the fact that you can only afford the necessities and all of the fun stuff has to fall by the wayside. It's not a great way to live, and it's where we're at as a nation.

(No Politics fail.)

Sometimes after my ex-band would have a bad show – playing in front of 3 people or something – I'd often say in mock defeat, "Fuck it, let's give up and become rapping clowns.
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" What is the point of trying hard to be creative and do things that have merit, meaning, or both when America has already proven that you will be A) exceedingly famous and B) wealthy beyond your wildest dreams simply by pasting on some cheap costume makeup and rapping about things of interest to the average adult WWF fan? One almost has to admire the simplicity and brilliance of Insane Clown Posse. You know, the "Fuckin' magnets, how do they work?" guys. If they've been off your radar for a few years, it will please you to learn that they went Christian.

Here is a photo album of Juggalos shot by a very good professional photographer. I picked out a pair to convince you to click through.

Come on, it's Friday. You're desperate for things to do that are not work.

I can barely wrap my head around such things. You know those ICP tattoos are still going to be there in 20 years, right? I suppose, however, that when you drop out of high school at 15 and lay around a trailer all day watching a black-and-white TV with a coathanger antenna and tending to your 28 year-old mother's meth lab, this sort of fantasy world for the illiterate must look pretty appealing.
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That is no excuse, though – I repeat, none – for a Juggalo funeral complete with an infant casket decked out in ICP decals. Click here if you dare to hear the mother's take on her baby's death (hint: it had nothing to do with the Xanax and weed she consumed during the pregnancy).

We have failed. I'm talking about mankind. As a species, we have failed.

The entire purpose of this entry is to make you feel better about yourself…and about your hillbilly relatives for that matter, about all of whom you can at least say, "Well, at least they're not juggalos."

This seems to be a popular series, what with the preference, even among intelligent people, for sophomoric humor inherent in names that sound funny. So let's keep the balls (foreshadowing) rolling with a journey through the pure, unadulterated awesomeness that is college football player names. Perhaps it is because there are so damn many college football players, but this group is stellar. I could throw a dart at a room full of college football players and be guaranteed of hitting someone with a name that sounds like a bodily function or contains a slang term for the male genitals.

Since amateur athletes don't appear on trading cards, this week's installment will have to be sans pictures but I have included links for verification. That last part is important, as you're going to be quite convinced that I'm making these up. Without further ado and in no particular order (although I do think #1 is the best):

10. Jerrod Gooch – In some but not all social circles, "gooch" is slang for the skin between one's scrotum and rectum. You know. The taint. So, in essence this is Jerrod Taint.

9. De'Cody Fagg – Let's overlook the bleedingly obvious for a moment and ask what in the hell that random apostrophe is doing in his first name. I don't think anyone named "Fagg" needs additional elements of his name working against him, but this appears to have been some kind of late 1980s fad (see: Sen'Derrick Marks, Cha'pelle Brown, Al'Darius Thompson). This name was a headline writer's dream, allowing chestnuts like "Fagg Sustains Injury" or "Hurricanes Secondary Unable to Contain Fagg."

8. I-Perfection Harris – What the fuck.

7. Craphonso Thorpe – To think that someone actually sat down and intentionally named a child "Craphonso" is mind boggling. And his middle name is Ja'Won. There's that goddamn apostrophe again. Was this some kind of late 1980s contest to see who could make up the dumbest name and saddle their unfortunate child with it?

6. Kyle Sackrider – Gay escort? Gay porn star? Male stripper? The career options are literally limitless for young Kyle. Aim high.

5. LeQuantum McDonald – While many college athletes have only token interest in their academic work, McDonald made the honor roll and received his Bachelor of Science degree in LeQuantum Physics.

4. Ray Ray McElrathbey – Anyone named "Ray Ray" must have a last name that rhymes or sounds phonetically pleasing when paired with the alliterative first name. Something tells me that "McElrathbey" could rhyme with Ray, but I haven't the slightest goddamn idea how to pronounce it. So that remains unconfirmed.

3. Damarius Bilbo – While it is widely recognized that one does not simply walk into Mordor, Damarius Bilbo simply walks into Mordor whenever the hell he wants, along with his friends Samwise and Frodo.

2. Barkevious Mingo – I don't understand this world anymore.

1.5 Lucious Pusey – Deadspin found this guy a few years ago and began a relentless campaign of mocking his name, and they were right to do it. They kept it up until he not only legally changed his name to Lucious Seymour (I'd have gone with Lucious Seymour Pusey) but he went Wolverine on the responsible writers. "When i make it to the league i will shoot a middle finger at y'all and say fuck all my haters. I am the realest." He did not prove to be the realest.

1. Jim Bob Cooter – This is like the perfect name. It is peak hillbilly, peak Southern, and peak juvenile. It is also the name of a man who would crawl through a bedroom window uninvited, disrobe, and get into bed with a woman he does not know. Congratulation, JBC. You are creepy and worthy of our derision in like nine different ways.

Which deserving gentlemen did I forget?

Americans in my age group and thereabouts love them some Radiohead. Hence I am always hesitant to point out that I hate those callow Englishmen. I did two weeks ago. The backlash was immediate, albeit not as strong as I expected:

Well, you're a drummer in a metal band, so your music taste is understandably crippled. I suppose I can give you a pass.

Snap. On the other hand, anyone who would describe my former band as "metal" has just the kind of saccharine tastes that lead one to exalt Radiohead. Oh, it's on now.

Seriously though, I get this a lot. So let me explain.

Honestly, there's nothing objectionable about Radiohead. They are a perfectly average group of musicians making perfectly dull, inoffensive music. There is nothing wrong with them.

I find it nearly impossible to imagine someone responding to Radiohead with "Oh God, I can't listen to this horrible racket!" It's the kind of thing young people can listen to while in a car with their parents without offending either.

My first objection, then, is a simple matter of personal taste.

I tend to hate things that fit the preceding description. One could say that I am deeply offended by inoffensiveness. I don't hate their music; I hate that they are so boring, so unoriginal, and so predictable. If you are a Rock Musician and the parents of your fans "get" your music – or perhaps even like it – you are doing something wrong. Take a risk. Piss someone off. Hurt someone's ears. Challenge people. Don't just keep churning out boilerplate that makes people say "Oh, how nice." Bands that everyone can find a way to like are, by definition, forgettable.

"But Ed," the script reads, "that is your personal taste. Many people feel quite strongly about Radiohead and consider their music to be profound, not to mention exciting and groundbreaking." Which brings me to the second point: it bugs the hell out of me when people (including professional "critics" who, in an ideal world, would know better) go apeshit for mediocrity.

This is not Radiohead's fault, per se. They cannot control the way people react to them. But imagine listening to someone breathlessly tell you that Good Will Hunting is not only their favorite film but quite possibly one of the greatest films of all time. Can you imagine anything sadder?
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Good Will Hunting is just a sappy, mediocre pile of cliches destined to be a staple of the in-flight movie circuit. To think that someone would have such terrible taste and watch so much garbage that Good Will Hunting would look like an amazing work of art in comparison is depressing. This is how I feel when I read or hear someone go on and on about the greatness of Radiohead. And sweet merciful christ do you people (that's a royal You) love to go on and on about the greatness of Radiohead.
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In my mind it is a damning commentary on the state of music today – at least the mainstream kind – that Radiohead is "great" or "innovative" or "revolutionary" or any of the other terms obsequiously heaped upon them by fans and critics alike. Compared to Puddle of Mudd or Grizzly Bear, yes, Radiohead is amazing. Compared to anything above the lowest common denominator they are not. If Radiohead blows your mind, you have done a particularly poor job of exposing yourself to music that does not appear on FM radio.

To me, being amazed by Kid A is merely an indication that a person has never listened to Brainiac.

So that's my beef with Radiohead. Their music is perfectly adequate, and hence I have no interest in it. Though it's not the band's fault, I am powerfully turned off by seeing and hearing people crap their pants over something so predictable and unremarkable. No offense if you love them; I just think that with a little effort you could avail yourself of things that make Radiohead sound pedestrian in comparison. I feel this way about a lot of things and it's not a popular viewpoint. But if all of my viewpoints were popular – perhaps inoffensive – you wouldn't have much interest in reading, would you?

Despite the vociferous objections of a number of readers, I had quite a bit of fun a few months ago with the All-Time Baseball All-Ugly Team. Today I want to focus on something less offensive but even more puerile. That's right, more puerile. This entry is going to set the record for dick jokes by a long shot. Hey, it's Friday. Let's come together through the medium of penis humor.

Rather than trying to fill out a complete roster as I did with the All-Ugly team, let's yield to the randomness of the distribution of silly names and rank them by awesomeness rather than by position. Without further ado and in no particular order…

1. Johnny Dickshot

This obscure benchwarmer for the 1930s Pittsburgh Pirates achieved immortality through his legendary name. My father's habit of referring to random strangers as Johnny Dickshot, which delighted me to no end as a child, has stuck with me into adulthood.

2. Randor Bierd

They can't all be penis jokes, can they? I think it is only fair to make room for a guy who sounds like an understudy to Vader and Palpatine. If the awesomeness of this name isn't apparent at first glance, say it aloud a few times. I'll wait.

3. Pete LaCock

His name is Spanish for "Pete the Cock." What goes through the head of someone who names their child Peter LaCock?

4. Dick Pole

Oh for christ's sake. This is like shooting fish in a barrel, or at least like spearing them with one's pole. Bonus points for coming up in the minors with the Portland Beavers.

5. Albert Pujols

Note the helpful phonetic pronunciation provided by the Cardinals: "POO-holes." Aside from being, you know, the most dominant hitter since Ted Williams, Pujols is badly underrated in the ridiculous name department. Bonus: Most amazing bootleg t-shirt ever seen for sale outside of a stadium…"Cardinals Take it In the Pujols" with a cartoon bird getting sodomized.

6. Urban Shocker

The idea that there is not a D-list rapper or punk band full of 15 year olds named "Urban Shocker" is baffling. Come to think of it, I should have saved this one for the list of the greatest names of all time. No word if he ever gave anyone the shocker.

7. Jung Bong

"Bong" is one of those words that are just phonetically pleasing. "Bong." There's no way to say that without enjoying it. Bonus points: Braves announcer Skip Caray delighted in this guy's name, frequently noting that opponents were "lighting up Bong" or getting "another hit off Bong." Since he sucked, there was ample opportunity for such humor.

8. Rusty Kuntz

You set 'em up, I'll knock 'em down. He insisted it was pronounced "Koontz" but as you might imagine that did not catch on.

9. Antonio Bastardo

He sounds like a luchador or perhaps a b-squad Batman villain. Either way it's a twofer: fun to say and intrinsically hilarious.

10. Yorman Bazardo

See above, only slightly more like a James Bond henchman.

11. Wonderful Terrific Monds

That's his actual name. Fittingly, he really, really sucked.

So tell me: who am I forgetting?

So, I need to hear some tales of woe. More accurately I need to collect some good anecdotes for purposes that will become clear at a later date. Use that there comment button to give me your worst pickup lines or best stories of phenomenally awkward attempts at hitting on someone in a social situation. It can be something that was tried on you, something you witnessed, or something you've done (or perhaps something "this friend of yours" did. Yes, that should stick.)

The best story I can recall at the moment involves me and another member of the original Ginandtacos.com trio, Erik M., having some drinks at the Hideout in Chicago. A woman in her mid-twenties, not terribly attractive or unattractive, decided that Erik was the ideal candidate for a rapid handshake-to-intercourse transition. So she attached herself to our table and after discovering that he is pursuing a Ph.D. in biochemistry, she pretended to be a huge fan of biochemistry. For like 10 minutes. It was like watching an adorable puppy being run over by a car.
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That bad. I mean, a reasonably astute adult can fake his or her way through a number of conversations, pretending to share a generic interest with someone for the sake of being sociable. Properly motivated, I could reasonably bullshit my way through ten minutes of talk about Radiohead, for example. I detest Radiohead, but I have enough pieces of information in storage that I could say something coherent. Blah blah Kid A, blah blah OK Computer, blah blah etc etc.

People do this all the time. That said, one cannot fake being a biochemist. Especially someone of (what appeared to be) substandard intelligence and above-average levels of insanity. Needless to say, Erik derived no insights into the nature of his chosen field from this conversation.
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After bluntly telling her to leave us alone several times, she spent the remainder of what quickly became a depressing evening bouncing around the bar reeking of desperation.

As best I can tell, I have never been hit on (undergraduates soliciting unearned grade increases aside). As such I must rely on the tales of others with more first-hand experience.
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I'm sure it blows to be female and receive this kind of unwanted "attention" regularly. At the same time, my inner anthropologist would enjoy being blown away by how delusional, inept, and unintentionally hilarious people (especially dudes) can be in these situations.

Don't let me down.

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