"Sure, we know what you have to say, but what are other people saying about stuff?"

I ramble. It's genetic. So instead of another post all about me and what I think (although it is my blog, so if you're reading, it's your own fault for being interested in the weird things in my head), here are some things that other people think about things I'm interested in:

And no, I'm not going back to make that paragraph more comprehensible. Go diagram a sentence, and parse it out. First one to finish gets a second apple at snacktime.

After having very specific and one-sided opinions about the respective conventions, I wanted some hard numbers to feel good about myself and my politics. Thanks, Slate! Now I know for sure that Republicans don't care about the issues affecting real Americans!

For those who don't know, Michael Ian Black is funny. Even his permanent slot on the "I Love the ___'s" VH1 shows give me chuckles. So I RSS'd his blog so I could read his funniness, and I enjoyed it. His commenters are slobbering fans, and that's why I'm nixing it off the required reading, but if he is even talking about Sarah Palin, you know it's important. Or at least possibly hilarious.

Did you want to know if Sarah Palin hates Jews? Me too. Turns out she does. Hooray!

I know it's late, but FreeDarko - usually devoted to liberated fandom and the glory that is professional basketball - took some time off this offseason and wrote some posts about the respective conventions. Check this out about the RNC.
Sorry about the italics. I'm not emphasizing to the exclusion of other links, although I do love my NBA talk mixed with a fine philosophical paste. So maybe I am pushing this one harder. You will love FreeDarko! You will obey my dog!

Some of you may know Michael Ian Black from his work in Wet Hot American Summer. Others may know him from "The State" or "Stella" . And some of you may know him from "I Love the New Millennium"or some other crappy VH1 nonsense. Either way, he's also a blogger, just like me, this lady, and the fifteen homeless guys I pass on my way to "work."

His commenters are pathetic, his posts hilarious, and recently he's gotten political.

Finally, the story that has been circulating the internets for a few days now, and has made its way to me via several different conduits. The New York Post has the story, as does Jewlicious.

Basically, a professor from the Fancy Pants alma mater has gone from he to she. Surgically.

Some of you may know that the FPAM - hell, what's the difference: Yeshiva University - is a tad...religious. Or at least they like to frame their marketing materials that way. Thus there is something of a brouhaha over the matter, although there are currently two Fancy Pants siblings at the school, and there have been no rioting reports as of 7:30 pm EST.

I think this is fantastic. Aside from the discomfort foisted upon the rabbis, there is the exposure of a true alternative lifestyle to a bunch of sheltered kids who think being a transvestite is just something people do on Purim.

So glory be to you, Professor Ladin. Enjoy womanhood and the opportunity to fondle your own boobs whenever you want. I have no idea what the Jewish legal issues may be, but I bet they're a lot fuzzier than Rabbi Tendler wants them to be.

Some links, you know, for the kids

Here is the Balloon Brother, amazing David Letterman and Biff like sugar-crazed toddlers:



Back in the day I had to wait breathlessly by the radio for the prefect songs to come up, then mix them with my meager tape collection to explain to any number of special ladies how I felt, being too lazy to come up with an original thought. Now, just go to Muxtape, and you can post your mixtapes for all to see, including the girl who sits behind you in French, and who odds are will not actually enjoy Conor Oberst's whining. My recommendation? ABC, "Aisha."

In yet another sad political twist, Obama and Liberal Blogs File for Divorce, all because he went on Fox News. All I want to know is who is going to buy my love with a Playstation 3 and universal healthcare.

Freedarko is being annoying, but it doesn't matter. If you don't love your basketball lightly salted with Kierkegaard and Ghostface Killah, then I don't know what to say to you.

Yeah, it's a short post, but it's really all in the name of getting Brother Balloon some extra hits. Check out his website, The Twisted Balloon Company, and be amazed.

Long Island ≠ Jewish

Last night, after a long day of playing pickup ball with octogenarians and avoiding In-Laws' questions about my professional intentions as to their fair city, I settled down to enjoy Night of Too Many Stars, a Comedy Central special to raise money for Autism. No, I don't know what the connection is, and no, I'm not going to make a joke about it. If you want that sort of humor, read Kissing Suzy Kolber. Seriously. Stop reading this crap. Go there.

I give the whole phonathon a B+, for the effort. They had a ton of stars, you got to see Tina Fey groped by some corporate flack, and Sara Silverman did that version of Amazing Grace where she harmonizes with her vagina. So that's something, I guess.

There were really only two parts of the show that grabbed my attention and shook it like a colicky baby.

The first was Chris Rock and Steven Wright, doing each other's material. Steven Wright did surprisingly ok - it was funny hearing him say "cracker" in ebonics, and it turns out that you don't have to scream Chris Rock's jokes in a grating whine to make them work.

No, the weird thing was hearing Rock do Steven Wright's jokes. I'd heard them all, and to see Chris Rock attempt a deadpan was unnerving. His persona is all inflection and emoting, whereas Wright may as well be a paralyzed wino, mumbling and drooling at passersby. Steven Wright's jokes, or bits, or missives, or whatever, are truly unfunny when told by someone else. I don't think Chris Rock got more than a sympathy chuckle for any of the jokes he told, while Wright got plenty of laughs doing Rock's material. So the question that kept me up the rest of the night is this: Is it that Chris Rock's stuff is just universally hilarious, or that Steven Wright's material is so wrapped up in Wright's persona that, unless you try and impersonate him, you'll never get a laugh trying his set?

The last thing that got to me was Rosie O'Donnell's set. Evidently, now that she's been booted from the View, and Donald Trump has moved on to perfecting a new combover look, she's bored. And lonely. And the lesbian jokes just aren't hitting their marks anymore. So what does Rosie decide to do? She checks out Kabbalah. And wouldn't you know it, but Long Island + Kabbalah = Jewish! So she can do a whole host of jokes about schmoozing with Pearl and Gitty, and say words like mishpucha, and now she's Ethel Merman.

Listen, and listen good, Rosie. Drop the Jewish jokes, and back slowly away. Just because you're large, have brown hair, and sound like Portnoy's mother doesn't mean you get to mock the Tribe. If you watched the thing, it was like a bad homage to the Seinfeld "Anti-Dentite" episode. She puts on a red string, and then gets to pretend she also knows how to make matza balls? Absolutely not.

Rosie O'Donnell is not only a lesbian, she's also Irish Catholic. She's been on the View. If she can't make comedy gold out of that wealth of material, then she should stay off the stage. Which, I think, would work for everyone involved.

New updates to the Fancy Pants

You may have noticed some new changes here at the Fancy Pants...Flight...place. First, as to the whole reading thing: I put it up there to make me look smart. There. I'm not going to hide it.

Maybe I'll tell you about what I'm reading, maybe not. Maybe I'll do it book report style, with a special cover and everything, done up in crayon, or even PrintShop. Or maybe I'll do nothing, and you'll be left to wonder - did he enjoy Darkmans? What does he think of Pynchon's scatological brilliance? Or maybe you'll just think I'm a wannabe showoff who reads books I don't understand. But you know what? I'm OK with that. And that's how I suckered Wife into marriage, by conning her into thinking I'm all about words and whatnot. So how do you like that knowledge?

The other addition is the links to other web pages. The Fancy Pants seal of approval has been granted to these other sites, because I know they'll never make you feel bad about not having your own blog. Which, by the way, you should totally not feel bad. Blogging, aside from being both a ridiculously lame noun and an ugly, embarrassing verb, is a complete debasement of the English language, almost as bad as text messaging. 

Other than this blog, and the ones on the side. Obviously. So enjoy them.

A little random fandom

Watching Demetri Martin on the Daily Show last night, it occurred to me why so much of my writing turns out bitter and angry, and not sufficiently surreal, not adequately absurd (also without enough alliteration. Gosh I love words that share first letters).

I spend too much time reading about sports.

Is there no more bitter population than sports fans? Read Kissing Suzy Kolber. Read With Leather. Sure, there's nuttiness there. But mostly it's couched in furious bitterness, especially towards Boston. Not that its fans are undeserving, but they're not worth the obsession. Sure, I hate annoying Red Sox fans, and the Patriots are simply disdainful of the normal boundaries of excellence on the football field. But come on, people! Wouldn't you rather enjoy watching Steven and Stephen yell at each other?

Or checking out what Demetri Martin has to say about wearing white? I know I do.

In all fairness, though, there is FreeDarko, successfully bridging the gap between highfalutin nonsense and professional athletics. See, e.g., their preview of every single NBA player.

So from now on, we're going to do a little more batshit insanity, a little less road rage. Unless the Bears continue their sucking. In which case I will sneak into Cedric Benson's house in the middle of the night, and smother him with his My Little Pony pillow. He may sleep the sleep of angels, but when he dies he'll spend eternity with Satan. No-yardage-gaining son of a bitch.

Dropping a link deuce

Blossom is a PHD candidate?? Maybe I should lay off the LSD. But then how would I get to see Blue-eared Pete, the skunk who tells me which celebrities are gay?

I was going to make a joke about Six trading BJs for crack rock, but then I went to her IMDB page and it turns out she’ll be in Dr. Doolittle 3. Which is a crueler fate? How about if I add that she’s also a country music star? And believes she had to change her name because her guardian angel told her so?

Let’s start taking up a collection to buy her some kneepads.

Rudy vs. Mitt: Who Hates Porn More? – You can’t make up a better lede. I don’t want to spoil the end, but I will say the only disappointing thing about the article is that neither candidate mentions masturbation, or the hairy palms and blindness it causes. But I do want to hear more about Peggy Noonan’s “ocean of filth,” and whether they’re selling any property on the coast. Only because I love the beach. It has nothing to do with the perversion, or the porn. Honestly.

Vegans vs. Vegetarians - Really, this is just like asking who’s better, Hitler or Stalin? The only loser in this conversation? Planet Earth. Because if you start respecting cows now, their inevitable takeover will be…inevitable. Also, I don’t know what lacto-ovo means, but it’s got to have something to do with sex, right? Right?

Free Rice – do you want to “earn” rice that will go to starving peoples at a rate of 10 grains per correct vocabulary question? If you’re like me, and one of your alltime top five accomplishments was completing, before anyone else, the 15^th grade vocabulary book in 8^th grade, then you’re a big, big nerd, and this game is for you.

I’m really sorry for the double-Heeb injection, not because I’m embarrassed to have visited the site, but because it so blatantly reveals my laziness. Either way, Jonah Hill should maybe spend less time with Seth Rogen. Can you tell me which one it is in this picture? Definitively? No, you cannot. If we find “Jonah Hill’s” body in a ditch sometime in the next year, I demand that “Seth Rogen’s” DNA get tested. We are heading for a real stalker situation here, and I don’t want to have to say I told you so in 8-12 months, when E! has footage of Jonah being led out of Rogen’s house, screaming “I AM Seth Rogen! Look at me! I’m Canadian, eh! There is no Jonah Hill! Seth! SETH ROGEN, DAMMIT!”

Link Dump

Good lord, I'm lazy. Here are some fantastic things that have happened on the internets:

Rudy Giuliani's Secret Debate Weapon - turns out, it's that he's a liar. I'm sure that comes as a shock to the two wives he cheated on.

Madonna leaves Warner after 24 years - $120 million? Anyone who's listened to her albums recently raise your hands. Not so fast, Imaginary Drag Queen.

Congress drafts resolution honoring Brett Favre - eh. It's not for Redneck of the Year, so I'm not really interested.

Ann Coulter - "We want Jews to be perfected" - wow, thank you Ann. And I was worried I wouldn't hear something whacked-out insane from you this month.

Radiohead is putting their fancy boot up the record industry's ass. Join them.

Blessing on your head...

Salon makes all sorts of ruckus about virgins. I don't know what the big deal is. People complain about virginity? I was a virgin for 20-odd years. I may still be a version, for all I know. And this -

http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/?last_story=/mwt/broadsheet/2007/10/10/knights_to_remember/

This was like my bar mitzvah. Except instead of your friends giving you money they wait outside to beat the crap out of you.

Not two entries?!? Are you worthy? Eh, maybe

I try not to do multiple posts in a single day. Partially because I don’t want to exhaust the last three or four ideas I have before the end of September, but also because I’m fantastically lazy. But once in a while something comes along that demands immediate attention.

Right now is one of those times.

Ballooned Brother-in-law reminded me of this over the neverending New Year festivations, and it is incumbent upon me to share it with you.

As you may know, I read excessively. Really, it’s obnoxious, and it throws off the national average. I’m trying to cut down, but then, well, then this sort of thing happens.

I refer to Ant Farm, by smart guy Simon Rich. His dad’s Frank Rich, and he got a two book deal before he graduated from Haaaaaaa-vaaahhd (sorry, Boston U insecurity requires me to refer to it that way any time it comes up).

2 excerpts have already been published in the New Yorker ("The Wisdom of Children" and "Hey, Look"), so you know it’s hyper-literate, and pretentious and quite possibly paddlin’-worthy. But it also happens to be hilarious. The kind of funny that makes you want to walk directly to your car and slam your head repeatedly in the driver’s-side door, if only so you might lose, via concussion, the knowledge that you’ll never write something so good. It makes me want to hunt this Simon guy down and punch him in the nads, then apologize profusely and buy him round after round of drinks.

Like Demetri Martin, he is a comedy wolf in indie-geek sheep’s skinny jeans.

So kudos, Simon. And damn you straight to hell. But mostly kudos.

And now...Fred Dalton Thompson!

Tonight Senator Fred Thompson makes his candidacy for President official. I had an opportunity today to sit down with the Tennessee gentleman and ask him some serious questions.

So it’s official, then: you’re running for President.
Well, I guess it beats dousing yourself in rum and lighting up a Cohiba.
You sure about that? I mean, it can get pretty vicious. Now that you’ve officially entered the race, can you say exactly what concerned you most about immersing yourself in the campaign process?
This business will get out of control. It will get out of control and we'll be lucky to live through it.
See? That’s exactly why I refuse to run, despite the persistent encouragement from Wife to “get the fuck out of my apartment!” The reference to campaigning is implied, obviously.

First, I’d like to get your perspective on some of the pressing issues of our day. What’s your position on gay marriage?
If you two wanna turn yourselves into a greasy spot out on a country road somewhere, go right ahead. I don't give a shit and I don't think anybody else does, but you two monkeys are not going to do it on my racetrack.
Aside for referring to my partner Jorge and I as monkeys, that’s surprisingly reasonable. Jorge, you are a hairy beast, aren’t you, my little love monkey! Your campaign manager says that, while you can wile away the hours with your Erector set, what you really enjoy is playing with your Etch-A-Sketch.
Hopefully, we can build bridges, but we also have to draw lines.
How about showing some love for the Lite-Brite? It was the only light source I had growing up – my hippy parents thought the regular lamps, with their standard white bulbs were too racist, and black light was too trippy. It was a fair compromise, I think. Your promotional materials attribute your legendarily deliberate defecation policies to your Siberian heritage. I really have two questions here: 1) Who has a “deliberate defecation policy?” And 2) What exactly does pooping have to do with Mother Russia?
Russians don't take a dump, son, without a plan.
I suppose we all have our ways of honoring our respective heritages. The most pressing issue these days is the War of Terror. One objective in which your predecessor failed miserably was catching Osama Bin Laden. Despite repeated and seemingly half-assed attempts to locate and capture him, he’s still at large. Rumor has it you two were roommates in college. Why is he such a fuckhead?
Summer of his third year, he and his squad went down in a chopper accident in the Med. Bad - pilot, crew killed. That kid spent ten months in traction, another year learning to walk again. Did his fourth year from the hospital. Now it's up to you, Charlie, but you might consider cuttin' the kid a little slack.
I guess that’s fair. Plus, it’s easier to let his actions slide knowing we already smoked the true mastermind behind Sept. 11 – Sodamn Insane! Hell’s yeah, bitches! WOOOOOO!

Now I’d like to turn to more personal questions, so any potential voters can get a sense of what you’re really like, behind those massive, sweaty jowls. Seriously, do you want a towel, or something?
Is there any truth to the rumor that you were investigated for killing panhandlers with your massive bear-like paws?
Sometimes the good you do won't do you any good
Fair enough. Looks like you and Giuliani come out about even on that score. Watch out Rudy, all he has to do is publicly dump his wife, and he’s got you all wrapped up! Speaking of scummy New York – what’s your favorite sexual technique?
You ever heard of a "Japanese Inspection?"
That’s a new one on me.
You see, when the Japs take in a load of lettuce –
Senator, that won’t go anywhere pleasant. I’m not going to subject my readers to that sort of smut; let’s move on. I hear from Roy, your mailman, that your wife can perform the fabled “Chinese ping pong ball explosion!” trick. Can my friend Gary Pritchard and I come by and check it out?
You can forget about Pritchard. He's homosexual.
That doesn’t mean he won’t enjoy it. Are you sure, though? Gary? But he’s happily married! 3 kids! Huh. I'll be damned.
So will he, if you believe the Old Testament.
So you’re a Creationist, then? Interesting. Well, thanks for being so patient during this interview. I have to admit, this was the first time I’ve ever spoken with a presidential candidate, outside of Chris Dodd propositioning me behind a 7/11. How did I do?
There's a lot more to competence than a law degree and a modicum of courtroom skill.
Ouch. Even Dodd gave me an A for effort. Well, I appreciate your honesty. Also, I was wondering, and…you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’m trying to improve my hosting skills, and, well…what do you think of my veggie platter?
You can't have all carrots and no sticks.
More celery, huh? Good tip.

Thanks to IMDB.com and brainyquotes.com for supplying genuine words from Sen. Thompson. I’m sure he meant every word.

Favorite Mike Vick Posts

Just in case some of you are getting these posts transcribed by Maori medicine men and then tied to the feet of peregrine falcons, who then fly these missives to you in your underground bunker somewhere in Pakistan (sorry to out you, Osama. Maybe if you'd just sign in when you comment, I wouldn't have given you up), Michael Vick is pleading guilty to a number of charges that will land him in Federal ass-raping prison for a good long while - certainly long enough for him to lose his gag reflex.

Here are some of my favorite writings about the ordeal.

From the twisted folks at Kissing Suzy Kolber: The Offseason Adventures Of Michael Vick! Episode 9: Betrayed!

Deadspin.com, the source of sports blogs and fantastic nicknames: Inmate Number Ookie

In fact, it's almost impossible to find a sports blog these days that didn't start as a bunch of commenters on Deadspin saying to each other: hey, that was a great Family Guy reference. Let's start a blog!

And for ESPN's straight take: Lester Munson, who is actually Thurmon Munson's least favorite grandson, doesn't think people should make jokes about how Joey Harrington gets to be at the helm of yet another team going nowhere.

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.

A Terrible, Terrible Confession

I'm going to admit something, and it's really embarrassing. I'm ashamed to state this, but in light of the Yi drama, and the Mo Williams contract, this is something I have to say.

I am a bad Bucks fan.

FreeDarko's Dr. LawyerIndianChief makes an interesting point about the Bucks, and their relationship to the overrall status of the NBA. If he's correct - and let's assume, arguendo, that he is - then I may not only be a bad Bucks fan, but I am also a bad NBA fan.

I love good basketball. Smooth transition offense, lockdown defense, absurd athletic achievement encapsulated in a split-second freakish outburst, like, say, 5'9" Nate Robinson handing Yao Ming his nuts. But what I cannot abide is poor passing, selfish play, and no effort - ugly basketball. I can't watch it, can't support it. And too often the Bucks have embodied this hideousness, or worse, they're simply boring. I don't make a point of watching them, I keep an eye on their stats, but if Michael Redd - maybe the league's finest example of function over form, a plain unpleasant and uninteresting scoring machine - drops 50 one night, am I going bonkers, and flipping my Sidney Moncrief jersey at random passersby? Nope.

Can't I still love the league? Maybe. I can be post-team like the FreeDarko ilk, I guess, but that just seems like a cop-out. Especially since I'm so hard up for the Chicago Bears. Sure, it's a different sport, but that's the thing about being a fan. You have to support your team, through thick and thin. Otherwise you're just an observer, enjoying performance art. And no one buys Miranda July's new Nike AirForce kicks.

Back to the NBA: if the Donaghy thing, after the nonexistent trade excitement - Let KG go! - and the crappy regular season, puts me off pro ball, then I am not sticking up for it through thick and thin, I am in fact dropping it like greasy marbles.

I don't know how I feel about all that. Maybe I should go watch more crazy highlights and sort it out.