NFPOTY 2008

There was some serious competition for this year's No Fear Player. And unlike last year, where OJ conquered the hill of douchebags in September with his audacious kidnapping and grand larceny, this one has come down to the wire.

Here then, are the nominees:

Gov. Sarah Palin (R-AK) -
- Helped the Republican establishment sink John McCain's Presidential bid;
- Spent upwards of $150,000 in public funds on clothes for herself and her family in less than a month;
- Repeatedly offended the letter "g" by excluding it from its rightful place at the end of words;
- Caused Tina Fey to have a serious identity crisis;
- Brazenly talked up abstenance-only sex education while her daughter was getting nailed by Levi Johnston;
- Used her developmentally disabled baby as a political prop.

CEOs Rick Wagoner of GM, Alan Mulally of Ford, and Robert Nardelli of Chrysler -
- killed the electric car;
- made really crappy, unreliable, inefficient, gigantic cars and trucks, allowing generations of small-penised men to feel good about themselves. Well, maybe that's not the worst thing;
- demanded a bailout from the federal government without any sort of plan to make their companies better;
- Flew in separate private jets to their first senate hearing to request money because they "don't have any;"
- made Michiganders look to their 3-9 Wolverines and their 0-14 Lions for comfort.
- turned Detroit from a decrepit, depressing city with no future into a decrepit, depressing city with no future.

AIG CEO Edward Liddy -
- took $150 billion in taxpayer money, used it to wipe his ass;
- after receiving all that money for financial assistance, then took his executives for spa junkets and massages. Of course, he shelled out extra for the happy endings;
- after getting caught on camera on one of said junkets, went back to the U.S. senate and requested more bailout money. Which he received;
- Got so much money so easily from the federal government that Wagoner, Mulally and Nardelli thought they for sure deserved some of that cheese.

And finally, Mr. Bernard Madoff -
- killed Jewish philanthropy;
- dug it up, raped it, and killed Jewish philanthropy again;
- stole $50 billion from individuals, corporations, and charities;
- turned the Palm Beach Country Club into a den of greed and hubris, instead of the den of elitism and snobbery it had once been;
- Together with Jack Abramoff, made Jewish non-profits long for the days of Michael Milken and Ivan Boesky (look them up, and reminisce about a time when financial malfeasance was nice and comprehensible);
- defrauded the nice little old ladies of Hadassah out of $90 million;
- caused 2 family charitable foundations to shut their doors, and renege on millions in committed grants.

Personally, as a Jewish Communal Professional, I say Madoff. But, as an American Taxpayer, I could easily see Liddy or the Detroit Three winning. I could also include Bob Babich, who has turned a once-mighty Chicago Bears defense into a toothless, blitzing-addicted paper tig- um, bear, but that might be a little too petty for this year.

The winner will be announced as soon as I blog again, because I trust very few of my 4 readers to vote, and also because I'm tempting you with an unusually quick follow-up post. So look out for that.

Kafka didn't know from trials

I had a hilarious post already written out. It was going to be about socks that lose their elastic, John Hodgman, and German. You'd have blown milk through your nose, I swear.

Only I had to set it aside, perchance to post it next week. Because this happened.

And if that wasn't bad enough, there was also this bit of "justice."

So as much as I'd like to work up a froth about the Supreme Court getting habeus corpus wrong so they could do right by the Gitmo detainees, right now I'm a little pissed at some of our nation's DA's. We'll do the less aggravating ruling first, Mr. "Pee on you" himself."



If you can't convict this guy, when you have video and direct testimony, you should retire. You have 6 - 6! - years to prepare, and not only can you not convince the victim to testify, but you can't even get her to retract her denial that it was she on the tape. Grab your gold watch, and go tell your grandkids about the pedophile who got away. Kudos.

As for Seattle...you know what? I can understand. I can see how a reasonably intelligent jury can't make up its mind. A man wanted desperately to kill some Jews, in a prominent location where he could do the most damage. He Googled Jews in Washington, and found the Seattle Federation. When he discovered that it was over 200 miles away, he packed some snacks, got directions on MapQuest, and headed out. On the way, to make sure they were in fine working order, he tested his two pistols.

Once he got to the Federation building he kidnapped a 14-year-old girl to gain entrance. As soon as he got in, according to victims' testimony, he started firing. He killed 1 and seriously injured 5. One of his victims, a pregnant woman who saved her fetus by stopping the fired bullet with her arm. Then, overcoming shock and blood loss, she convinced the man to call 911, and he was taken into custody. He plead not guilty by reason of insanity for 15 counts of murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, and related charges.

When asked why they couldn't come to a decision, one of the jurors was shockingly, if unintentionally, spot on. "We didn't understand the legal concept of 'right from wrong.'" Exactly.

So instead of comedy you get tragedy. Sorry about that. At least you got the Chapelle skit thought, right? He's always funny.

Saul Williams makes me want to buy some Nikes and curse my evil white heritage

If you haven't seen it already, this is Nike's commercial for its new cross-trainers:



The song is by Saul Williams, called "List of Demands (Reparations)." I don't know about you, but it makes me want to go out and run suicides, or buy some overpriced athletic shoes.

The song is awesome, and obviously Saul Williams authorized its use in the commercial, but don't you think someone who looks and thinks like this, wouldn't he be a little hesitant about allowing a company to use what is effectively a protest song, in such a way? Or is that simply my white guilt, projecting my discomfort onto him?

Either way, badass song, right?

Rollo Horschmeier - the Urbans are coming!

Good fellow citizens in capitalism,

There is a phenomenon that, until now, I have been able to ignore. What happened over the weekend in South Carolina is but the most recent example of a certain kind of individual gaining prominence in our good land. As a staunch supporter of small town squares, neighborhoods in which one may sound out one's children with sparklers and a slingshot and not have to worry whether anyone might put out an eye, and of course cotton candy, these Urbanites threaten everything that is good and right in this country. 

If you have not encountered these gritty, citified masses, then you have not had to deal with their coarse manner, their off-putting commitment to being different, both in appearance and philosophy. Consider some of their more disturbing character traits:

 - Their music is often driven, nay, possessed, by carnal rhythms, and chanted in tribal formulae that hypnotize naive women and cause them to perform garish gyrations. Nowhere may be heard a banjo, or even a ukulele. 

 - Their manner of dress is sloppy, and unoriginal. Our sporting shirts and khaki trousers have been transmogrified into baggy wastes of cloth. Alternatively, they may dress in suits that are too short, too tight, revealing all manner of private sinuosities. Soon no doubt we shall see some Urbanite wearing some horribly mangled priestly vestments, designed only to shock and titillate. 

 - They have an unnatural preference for public transportation. Who doesn't prefer the quiet moments behind the wheel of one's own automobile, free from the smells and pressures of other people's filthy bodies? One might be inclined to suggest the taxicab as a happy compromise between the Urbanites and the rest of us good Americans, but again, there is the stench of foreign breath, and unknown spices and flavors. Disgusting.

Obviously there are the standard aversions to hard work, self-determination, and ponies, but these need not be repeated. Simply put, the Urbanites want to be paid by the government to wear their baggy or tight clothes, play their basso profundo music, and take their trains to smoky clubs where seditious plots and revolutions are fomented. It is incumbent upon us, then, to push back with our pure, snowy might, and vote against the insurgents. As a proper corporate citizen, my vote can only be fore Governor Romney, in all his robotic glory. Programmed for right, with that dreamy grin and perfect hair, Mitt is my man. And he's also the man for our kind of America. A non-Urban America. 

To the booths, ladies and gentlemen, and then on to the malls, and the big box retailers, and to Wal-Mart! Onward, corporate soldiers!

Ow, they broke my childhood's leg!

When I first heard of the new Knight Rider movie, I was excited, and nervous. And I saw this:



which made me even more anxious, because his name's not Mike, dammit, it's Michael. Show David Hasselhoff some respect, stupid car. But I thought certain things were sacrosanct, untouchable. Obviously the new KITT would be a Pontiac Firebird, and speak in a fey British accent that made you feel that your annunciation was sorely lacking.

I was wrong. The new Kitt is in no way similar to the old one.

How do they want me to react? Like everything is ok? As if I would understand that certain updates were necessary, and frankly if the new car was also going to be the same model that the new David Hasselhoff would also have to have a curly, flowing mullet? And who's going to replace Hasselhoff, the German Wonder, anyway? Who is sufficiently masculine? Who has the guts to put himself out there like this:



or this:



or this?



How do you top that? You don't. All you do is sully the memory, and my memory is sufficiently sullied. So when my child, who won't be able to speak when the new Knight Rider appears, but will question me with his/her eyes, wonders what happened to the old Knight Rider, I shall say to him/her, "I'm sorry, my child. Michael Knight got ripped on uppers and blow, and crashed KITT into an orphanage. Let us never speak of this again."

I am weak, so weak

From the very beginning I have taken a firm stand against the juggernaut behemoth that is Facebook. Even when I learned that many people I love and respect had surrendered to its wily, sexy charms, I said "Nay! I shall not be swayed!"

And then I found out that I can find people with whom I went to camp. People who might forgive me for my obsession with proper grammar. Who might remember me when I was awkward and quiet, instead of awkward and outspoken. Gosh, with an opportunity like that, who could blame me for giving in?

So today I've succumbed. I am on Facebook, searching madly for people I once knew who now have children and double chins and less hair. It's like a constant high school reunion, except no one is having sex in the janitor's closet. And for those of you who know where I went to high school, it could happen. I don't know where the janitor's closet was/is, but I bet people were/are having sex in it. No one I know, but still.

Do not think that I'll be neglecting the Fancy Pants, though. Despite its god-awful name, which gets worse every time I have to type it, I'm standing by my blog, and shall update it as I see fit, as always. So don't think that just because I'm on Facebook, and football season is over, that I'm going to give up this crazy plan of writing out things I think.

Have you heard of "video?"

Espn.com is currently hosting a vote of the 100 Greatest Highlights from The Babe calling his amphetamine-and-hot-dog-fueled shot, to Trinity College's 54-lateral game-winning touchdown.

I don't know how much you know about sports highlights, and maybe you're not as picky, not as demanding as I am. But when I think "highlights," the first thing I think of is my upcoming tip-frosting appointment. The second thing that comes to mind is VIDEO replays of famous events. They say pictures are worth a thousand words. And sometimes those words are useful. But still shots, holding themselves out as full-on highlights - you know what those 1,000 words are? "Screw you, sports fans," repeated over and over.

ESPN is usually up to the task of reporting scores and showing video of great plays. But this time, when they want us to vote for the greatest highlight of all time...now they want us to go somewhere else for our video. And I have no problem with Youtube, it's where I get to see squirrels waterskiing (Look! Look at the little guy go!).



But if want highlights, I think, maybe, I should get to see them at the site where they want me to vote on them. I don't know, maybe I'm crazy.

One last thought before I leave you. Some of the events on the list are too old, or too obscure to have video evidence of their occurrence. And yet they're included on the "Greatest Highlight" list. Just because an athlete did something amazing does not mean it should be a Great Highlight. The barest, lowest threshold these things should meet is that there is video, like, say, the rest of the highlights on ESPN. Consistency is all I ask for.

Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me.

Brian Urlacher: Hey, what's goin on?

Me:

Alex Brown: Did you, um, did you watch last night?

Me:

Tommie Harris: You guys, I don't think he's talking to us.

Me: Who's Todd Collins?

Urlacher: I don't know that name. I don't know who you're talking about.

Harris: Yeah, that sound like some accountant, or something

Me: Don't lie to me, you pricks. You remember getting plowed like a choirboy last night? Does that ring a bell? Some "accountant" bending you over his knee in front of 80,000 fans, and opening you up wider than Wacker Drive? Is it starting to come back to you?

Brown: It wasn't totally our fault. I mean, Griese had 4th and goal with 7 minutes left, down 7. The field goal wasn't our call.

Me: At this point, the offense spends entire games with its collective head between its ankles. But you guys...I just thought you were better than that. 24 points to the Redskins? To TODD COLLINS? I swore he was taking my order at Dunkin Donuts on Tuesday, and Thursday night he's tearing out your rectum in ways that - I mean, thank god it was on the NFL Network where no one could see it, because children should be prevented from seeing that game. Now get out. Go away, I have to decide whether I still want you in my life this year. I am seriously considering packing it in, and switching over to basketball, because you have hurt me. I feel betrayed, and let down, and I just...Brian, I never expected this from you, of all people. Go, just...just go.

A Glorious Day for Uniflexicom and its Message!

Consumers,

Today is a magnificent day here at Uniflexicom. The Board of Directors and I have declared October 18, 2007 to be “Free Speech Day,” and as I write this our 55,000 family-members/employees are exercising their freedom to wearing the t-shirts Marketing crafted for this new corporate holiday: “Uniflexicom: One Spirit, One Voice, One Mind!”

First, a special thanks to Friend of the Family John Rockefeller, Democratic Senator from the great state of West Virginia. As the Chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee, he has worked tirelessly with Teletap, our telecom subsidiary, to ensure that they can continue contributing their facilities to stamping out domestic terror threats, as the enemy extends its grubby digits into our borders. Senator Rockefeller was especially kind in protecting us from frivolous lawsuits, filed by terrorist sympathizers and left-wing extremists. Without you, Senator, the Teletap security department would be decommissioned. On behalf of those workers and their families, I say kudos!

For too long Two Tongues Media, Uniflexicom’s communication branch has had to deal with the obfuscation of its message. Certainly, with 150 local and national television stations, and 200 print media outlets, TTM is able to get is carefully crafted releases past the muckraking, scandal-hungry talking heads to you, our devoted customers. But sometimes those polished, carefully worded communications are muddied by trumped-up claims and statistics, or preposterous stories of corruption. But Kevin Martin – who may grill a great kobe steak, but can’t hit a sand wedge to save his life – is taking the bull by the horns. Kevin is standing up to the big-government special interests, and working hard to protect our interests, and those of our shareholders. Don’t you want the convenience, the comfort of knowing that if you miss a story in your local paper, that you’ll get to hear about it in your car on your way to work? And if you take the train, that the same story will appear on the evening news, with the same facts you read that morning over breakfast? What a tremendous improvement that would be over the current system, where one paper says one thing, and then you hear some guy on the radio who says something totally different, and you don’t know who to believe. With the FCC on our side, Uniflexicom will fix that situation, and you too, will be able to wear your new t-shirt proudly: “Uniflexicom: One Spirit, One Voice, One Mind!”

Oh, cute!

I don’t know what you may have read about the Blackwater company. Perhaps you’ve heard about this. Or this. Or this. Or this. Or this.

I tried to hold off judgment, because sometimes mercenary armies fight for good. Maybe they’re the new GIJoe! And then today there was this headline, so I thought it was time to really check them out. I did a little investigating of my own. I went to their website, Blackwaterusa.com. And you know what? They don’t look any different from any other international corporation. In fact, in some ways, they’re more civil. You know what their Vision is? “To support security, peace, freedom, and democracy everywhere.” Are you going to argue with that? No, you’re not. Because you’re not Osama Bin Laden. And if you are, you still owe me 20 bucks.

Their employment requirements, by the way, are almost genteel:

· Weight must be proportionate to height.

· Must maintain a neat and clean appearance.

· Must be in good health and pass a physical test.

· Most positions require ability to obtain/maintain a secret or higher clearance.

· No history of major illness or mental disorder.

· Must have an Honorable Discharge and DD-214.

· No felony, violent crimes, spouse or child abuse convictions(NO WAIVERS)

See? They won’t even accept a waiver from a child abuser! Let’s see Greenpeace, aka The Haven for Baby-Beaters™ match that.

They also, for your convenience, have a gift shop, where you can buy everything from Christmas Ornaments to Stuffed Teddy Bears to Tactical Shorts. With the holiday season almost upon us, who doesn’t need Tactical Shorts?

Any company that sells teddy bears can’t be all bad, can it?

Again, Mr. Rollo Horschmeier

To reclaim a line from that Pinko Bob Dylan, Dear mothers and fathers, throughout the land,

Yesterday, in respect for the fallen of September 11, I proclaimed freedom from fear, so that you would all feel liberated to participate in America’s greatest pastime, that of capitalism. And hopefully you listened. Because today, my message to you is much, much darker.

Certainly, our military might is unmatched, and verily we shall strike down the godless cowardly infidels. But they cannot fight terror everywhere. Every day terror grows stronger, inching its way across continents and seas toward your very homes. It can pop up at any time, in any place – at your office, your local library, even your little ones’ elementary school. These bastards don’t have the common decency to focus their satanic fury on military objectives: their goals are to reach into your suburban complacency and rip out your still-beating American heart. Those panty-waists on Capitol Hill refuse to acknowledge the brutal efficacy of profiling, but it may already be too late. Terrorists have made significant inroads to our youth, and now anyone could be the next Mohammad Atta, the next Jose Padilla. Do you want that? Are you willing to say, as those liberal elitists do, that “I have no problem seeing the limbs of a dismembered infant laying on the hard concrete, so long as no one affects my right to buy pornos and proclaim my love of Communism in church, where I go even though I don’t really believe in anything.” If you’re like that, well, I can’t legally have you imprisoned, but I can recommend that your phone be tapped, although in all likelihood the NSA is two steps ahead anyway.

You may feel helpless. And that’s ok – panic is often the mother of decisiveness, although it can also occasionally be the father of paralyzed horror. Uniflexicom is here to help. At UFTV we offer 24-hour coverage of disasters, war coverage, and local criminal activity, so you know in exactly which ways the world you love and understand is going to hellfire and brimstone in a pretty wicker basket. At our Uni-Superstores you can stock up with all your emergency needs, from pepper spray to dirty bomb shelters. Sign up for our online updates for a low monthly fee, and we’ll provide you the names and locations of every registered sex offender within a 350-mile radius from your home. Join our Uniflexi-Heroes program, and we’ll train you and your family to recognize, detain, and interrogate questionable individuals.

Freedom is not free. Like breathing, you need to spend money to survive, and to insure the survival of your family and friends, and your way of life. Because if terror wins, it won’t be because we weren’t able to beat it; it will be because there were too many people who said “it costs too much, we should just keep saving.” You know who hoards their money, and doesn’t ever spend it? Pirates.

A Solemn Message from Rollo Horschmeier

Men, women, mothers, fathers, little boys and girls with your slingshots and ponytails, today we commemorate a dark day in this nation's history. Our way of life, our very essence, was threatened by pure evil, embodied in 19 men. Symbols of this great land were rent asunder, monuments to achievements that will never be forgotten.

But we have bounced back. No damn dirty terrorist will get us down, not in THIS country! After terror walked up to us as we daydreamed in the park and spit in our eye, we said "Thank you, no! I shall not be laid low by scoundrels and ragamuffins!" We maintained our commitment to those principles that birthed this glorious country, and from where I sit, high above Manhattan in a gleaming tower of steel and glass built with the callused hands of immigrants, legal and "miscellaneous," I say to you that we must stand together. We must remain united in our goals and in our morals! One nation under Jesus H, Christ!

This morning, as little blind Evgeni shined my shoes with the tattered remains of his good Sunday shirt, he asked me "Mr. Horschmeier, maybe today a tip?" After he repeated the question three or four times I noticed he was talking to me, and before I could reach my mahogany cane to rap him about the face and ribs, I paused, and looked deep into his empty eye sockets. And what I said to him I repeat to you, so you shall know best how to commemorate this dark day, this 9/11:

Son(s and daughters), this is my tip for you: serve your country. For some, the best way to do so is in the military, fighting bearded swarthy terror overseas. But if you've gone to college, or haven't yet been to prison, then you have other options. And the most effective of those is simply this: consume. Terrorism thrives on attention and fear - how can you be focusing on Ahmed Al-Jazeera if you're trying to pick out a new blouse? Here at Uniflexicom, Inc., we have thousands of products for the American household, from What-ectomy? surgery kits for your precocious toddler to Zapp!-Mark 3 semi-automatic rifles with night-vision scope and silencer, the perfect Father's Day gift. We've got all the right gifts for your and your family, so you can continue ignoring the so-called "fiasco" overseas. It's far away, and complicated. You know what's simple? Matching a home stereo to your new flat-screen TV! Awesome! So enjoy our 9/11 sale, our biggest until Memorial Day comes around. Because you know what Osama Bin Laden truly despises? A good deal.

Tuesday List: Things to Do in Israel When You're not Dead, But Only Mildly Decayed

This is what I did last week in the Land of Milk & Honey:

1) Got "Mary was a slut!" tattooed on my chest in the middle of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher;

2) Walked onto the Temple of the Mount wearing a "Muhammad Was a Pussy!" T-shirt;

3) Led a Gay Pride parade while blaring "It's Raining Men" on my ghetto blaster through Meah Shearim on the Holy Sabbath;

4) Threw rocks and Molotov cocktails at Israeli soldiers while surrounded by women and children;

5) Demolished Palestinian homes with a Caterpillar bulldozer;

6) Snuck Sudanese refugees past security;

7) Evicted 3 entire settlements from the West Bank;

8) Gave a lecture at Gaza University on "The Myth of the Law of Return; '... And Don't Come Back!'"

9) Openly proclaimed the existence of the Israeli nuclear weapons program; and

10) Led a Holocaust denial rally at Yad Vashem.

All in all, it was a great trip.

A message from Rollo Horschmeier, CEO, Uniflexicom, Inc.

All this talk of universal health care, affirmative action, and whatnot fills me with the bloating discomfort that comes with the rise of Communism. Zombie Stalin has been roused from his great mortal slumber, so he may walk freely in the halls of our HMOs, our churches, our foyers, tracking dirt and decayed organs everywhere.

I say NO! We shall not surrender to some dead Russian who can’t even speak English. We’re American – the only ruler before which we bow is an unscrupulous oil-rich Mideast tyrant who is still willing to sell us petroleum while keeping quiet with the whole oppression thing. So unless the king of Saudi Arabia comes waltzing in here, we’re standing tall.

45 million uninsured? Get a job, sickies! Stop coughing on my car, I just washed it. Eternally escalating drug costs? Ever hear of the black market? Be proactive! Contributing to the illicit transfer of necessary medications helps us market the war on drugs, another successful capitalist project. We’re pretty well inured to images of little minority kids all hopped up on goofballs; but show me a granny strung out on blood thinners, and we’ve got a new ad campaign! I can see it now: little old lady with a frying pan, feebly wailing away at her kitchen appliances. “This is your brain on nitro-glycerin. This is your brain on Cumiden.”

You’d rather have the government running things? A bunch of old white guys who’ve never had to do a minute of real work in their lives? They don’t know what’s best for this country. Leave it to us, your neighborhood international conglomerates. We know what you want; our commercials explain it quite clearly. The other CEO’s and I, distinguished men all, can trace our roots back to the very first colonies of Jamestown and Plymouth, where commerce was conducted over slaves and smallpox. Your expendable income has elected us to rule over your purchases, and when has money ever misled you? You want to hand over your lives to a bunch of overprivileged pansies? Don’t give the politicians the satisfaction. Let Uniflexicom take care of you. And don’t worry about healthcare, or immigration, or terrorists. If there’s something you should buy to keep you safe from these ephemeral dangers, we’ll let you know with easy-to-understand, sexy commercials.

I'll Take Encyclopedia Britannica, Thanks Very Much

Sinister Wikipedia edits

Things I would edit in Wikipedia if a) I cared; and b) had nothing better to do with my time:

How Jesus’ nickname changed from Jeenie Weenie to the Son of G-d (hint: it had something to do with the IPhone);

List of animal rights violations committed by my neighbor’s eight-year-old son Felix against the cat that lives across the street;

The details of Microsoft’s involvement in WWII Norwegian internment camps;

The existence of Norwegian internment camps during WWII;

Icelandic folktales based on the Voltron mythology;

The brutal oppression by Native American tribes of early arrival British dandies (whatever happened to Sir Rollo the Effete?);

Karl Rove and philately: the REAL 9/11 conspiracy.