K-E-Y... Why? Because He Resisted the Jew's Attempt to Take His Land

Try as I might to make this story funny, the AP's rather dry take reigns supreme:

"A Mickey Mouse lookalike who preached Islamic domination on a Hamas-affiliated children's television program was beaten to death in the show's final episode Friday."

Gangbusters.

Back in May, a Mickey Mouse knockoff named "Farfour" (complete with falsetto voice) made international headlines for being the star of a Palestinian TV show, "Tomorrow's Pioneers", that preached to kids such basic lessons as teamwork, identifying shapes and colors, and how to kill a Zionist Jew.

On the series' final episode, Sara, Farfour's teenage human co-host, was left to explain to her viewers--who had just watched their presumably beloved giant mouse expire at the hands of an "Israeli"--that Farfour "was martyred while defending his land" against "the killers of children".

That's entertainment...albeit not without flaws. On the one hand, "Tomorrow's Pioneers" went out the way it came in: spewing racist propaganda and inciting violence, which is kind of a bad thing. On the plus side, though, it offered a more satisfying conclusion than "The Sopranos".

It's Up to You, ___________, to Renew My Interest in the Boston Celtics

Throughout my childhood, I was a diehard Boston Celtics fan. Somewhere after the retirements of Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Robert Parish, Dennis Johnson (R.I.P.) and Danny Ainge (who's currently, um, kind of hurting the team as its general manager), the death of Reggie Lewis (again, R.I.P.) and before the time when the Celtics became of one the worst teams in the NBA, I lost interest. Go figure. (And after the (actual) retirement of Michael Jordan, I all but lost interest in the NBA entirely.)

But the Celtics did so poorly last season that I couldn't help but start rooting for them again...rooting for them to lose so that they'd get the top pick in the 2007 draft and maybe give Celtics fans past and present something to cheer about.

They managed to screw that up, breaking an 18-game losing streak that--had it gone one more--would have guaranteed them the number-one spot on draft day. In the draft lottery last month, the Celtics came out with Number 5--a rather deep pick for a team as bad as them.

And moments ago, with the fifth overall pick in the 2007 NBA Draft, the Boston Celtics have selected...

NOBODY.

Before the second pick (which was Seattle's; they selected Kevin Durant) was announced, the Celtics traded their pick (along with Wally Szczerbiak and Delonte West) to Seattle--giving them #2 and #5--for 32-year-old Ray Allen.

Thanks for nothing, Danny Ainge.

(I wonder if there's any room on the Supersonics bandwagon...)

They're Bigger Than Lip-Syncing Jesus

For six long years, the world has been without music. In December, the deafening silence will finally be broken...when the Spice Girls go back on tour! [Ed. note: Girl Power!]

While Ginger Spice is implicitly trying to take credit for disbanding the group back in 2001 (she left in 1998 and the Spice Girls' one Gingerless album, 2000's Forever, did not sell very spicily), making the reunion all about her by likening the four other Spices to a collective husband she's been divorced from, you may be a bit surprised to learn who was the one true holdout:

According to ABC News, it was Sporty Spice, who remarked about the reunion, "I've always said, 'I don't want to do it.'"

Sporty Spice was the one who needed to be talked into this? Not Married-to-David-Beckham Spice, Eddie-Murphy-Paternity-Suit Spice, or the aforementioned Pretended-to-be-Princess-Diana-for-a-While Spice? (I would have even pegged Not-Much-Going-On-Either-But-at-Least-Way-More-Attractive-Than- Sporty-Spice Spice as somewhat less motivated to get back on the horse.) You think you know the Spice Girls...

In any event, the important thing is that the ladies will soon be entertaining the world (or at least 11 cities) again with their signature brand of high-kicks and flexing and jumping up and down while some songs play.

(Also, they're re-releasing their movie.)

Pat Coyle and the Cone of Safety

As if I weren't already ashamed by the simple fact that I have been neglecting my blogging-related responsibilities as of late (it may stun you to learn that I don't get paid for this), I have returned to the fold to discover that not only has my man crush Pat Coyle been diligently maintaining his own blog on a daily basis, but, two days ago, he successfully manipulated his Sports Marketing/Indianapolis Colts/English Writing Clinic website into a platform for a debate on the hot-button issue of human genitalia.

You think you've got balls? You don't. Pat Coyle's got balls.

(As well as something called a "cone of safety"...inside of which, I guess, is the only place one is free to talk about balls.)

Old Man Lied to by Idiot

As far more people than have any reason to already know (in a world that made any kind of sense, the actual number would be, uh...two), Paris Hilton appeared on "Larry King Live" last night to deliver her first post-imprisonment interview.

In said interview, Paris told Larry that she has never used drugs.

She also said some other things, apparently (she has found God, she can read, the sky is chartreuse...and so on). If you care about any of it--keeping in mind the fact that Paris Hilton told Larry King that she has never used drugs--shame on you. I didn't watch the interview and, for that very reason, I have to cease writing this post now to resume congratulating myself. Way to go, me!

Reason #3,043 to Hate People (Even If You Like Persons)

A 3- or 4-year-old girl gets hit by a car and has to be taken to a hospital.

That's terrible, and your heart goes out to her and her family. (Thankfully, the girl's injuries turned out to be non-life-threatening.)

When the driver who struck the girl stops to check on her, a group of men (part of a crowd of thousands that had gathered to celebrate the anniversary of news of the Emancipation Proclamation reaching Galveston) attacks and ends up beating the passenger of the car to death.

That's humanity at its finest, and all the heroes involved should be awfully proud of themselves.

A Talking Chair Will Soon Be Upon Us Once Again, and We Will Rejoice

You know who's making a comeback?

Pee-wee Herman.

You know who's surprised to find himself kind of looking forward to it?

Me.

Jesus Built My Hot Rod

In the nearly 120 years since the invention of the automobile, the world's roadways have been an anarchic wasteland of hedonism and brutality, with the only institution to regulate motorists' behavior being something called "laws". Mankind has waited in vain for the one true authority on driving safety--a bunch of old men who live in Rome and say that they're best friends with God--to straighten us all out.

At long last...the wait is over.

On Tuesday the Vatican issued a set of "Ten Commandments" for drivers, citing that automobiles can be "an occasion of sin"--in the realms, for example, of drinking and driving, picking up hookers, and, um...not praying in your car. The document is officially called "Guidelines for the Pastoral Care of the Road", and breaks down as such:

1. You shall not kill. Where have I heard that before?

2. The road shall be for you a means of communion between people and not of mortal harm. No killing. We've established that. So this is more like nine commandments, isn't it?

3. Courtesy, uprightness and prudence will help you deal with unforeseen events. Drive with your eyes open. Check.

4. Be charitable and help your neighbor in need, especially victims of accidents. But only if he has insurance, right?

5. Cars shall not be for you an expression of power and domination, and an occasion of sin. Pass.

6. Charitably convince the young and not so young not to drive when they are not in a fitting condition to do so. How curious, given who wrote these rules, that this one clearly does not apply to the super-old. I call shenanigans.

7. Support the families of accident victims. What if the victim isn't dead yet? This seems to be a contradiction of commandment #4.

8. Bring guilty motorists and their victims together, at the appropriate time, so that they can undergo the liberating experience of forgiveness. While driving? That seems pretty effing complicated.

9. On the road, protect the more vulnerable party. This one's for cup holders.

10. Feel responsible toward others.

Ooooohhhhh...responsible towards others! I've been doing this driving thing all wrong, what with the always-trying-to-kill-people. Thank Pete you've explained the rules of the road for us in your own unique style, Catholic Church. Where would the world be without you?

Josh Duhamel Is Smartalicious

If you choose to participate in cloying puff pieces that are nothing but terribly disguised promotions for Michael Bay "films", you might not come off looking as...let's say, scholarly...as you might have wanted to.

Example: Josh Duhamel--whose relationship with Fergie the AP story in question calls "a match made in Hollywood heaven with hot looks to match their hot careers" [Ed. note: Person who wrote the AP story, how do you sleep at night?]. The most colorful term he can come up with to describe his (lovely) lady (lumps) is "a real total star", in the process smashing two awkwardly-paired superlatives together like one imagines Optimus Prime collides with Megatron in the upcoming Paramount Pictures action movie Transformers, which I understand opens July 3.

Showing boldness on the level of the Autobot Ironhide, the 35-year-old Duhamel goes on to categorize the 27-year-old Ryan Gosling as an "actor [his] age", and explains that his career motivation stems from a need to "prove [him]self to be more than what people think they see"...in other words, more than meets the eye.

"People don't know what you're capable of until you actually do it," Duhamel remarks. And he's absolutely right...for now I know that Josh Duhamel is not capable of giving interviews.

Also: Transformers, Transformers, Transformers.

Let's Stay Friends 4-EVA! (Or Until the First One of Us Explodes)

ABC News has exclusively obtained footage of an alleged Taliban "graduation" ceremony that was captured by a Pakistani journalist on June 9. The group of 300-some odd "graduates", which included boys as young as 12, was reportedly being dispersed to carry out attacks in the United States, Canada, Great Britain and Germany. But I think I speak for everyone when I ask the really important question:

Did they play that song by Vitamin C?

The leader of the team assigned to attack Great Britain, who was thoughtful enough to speak in English, had this to say to the assembled crowd:

"So let me say something about why we are going, along with my team, for a suicide attack in Britain. Whether my colleagues, companions and Muslim brothers die today or tonight, every drop of our blood will invigorate the Muslim (unintelligible)."

You've got to give him some amount of credit: at least that was more original than "San Dimas High School football RULES!"

Rich White Kids Get Richer for Having Been Stereotyped as Rich White Kids

There's "I've been exonerated of a crime of which I was falsely accused" happy...and then there's "Ha-ha, we fooled you all and now I've doubled my trust fund, attendees of the poor-kids camp!" happy.

Based on the above picture, I wonder if Mike Nifong might try to re-open the case at least against the kid on the right before leaving office.

PAT COYLE UPDATE: Pat Coyle Has Noticed That People Noticed Pat Coyle

As I mentioned a mere two posts ago, I've fallen head over heels for the poet/Indianapolis Colts' Executive Director of Digital Business Pat Coyle.

It was a piece on Deadspin that blessedly brought Coyle into my life, and the attention that it unexpectedly thrust upon the ever-demure Coyle's blog has compelled the man himself to respond with his signature mix of unshakable vanillatude and needless exclamation points.

In his post from Friday, Coyle helpfully includes a screenshot of a site traffic chart from Google Analytics to illustrate how the previous day's offering "generated more buzz than anything [he's] ever posted". (While it appears that the level of "buzz" generated by all of Coyle's other writings amounts to approximately none whatsoever, you still can't accuse the man of lying.)

When I first read, on Coyle's blog, the words "a few bloggers had strong opinions about the story I told", my pace quickened as I could not suppress the instinctive hope that my muse would include me on his ensuing shortlist of "favorites". Alas, Coyle opted to tip his hat to, aside from Deadspin, a bible thumper (whose "strong opinion" amounted to "I liked the part when Pat Coyle talked about God"), a fellow white-collar soldier whose blog makes Coyle's look like The Brothers Karamazov, a guy who made fun of Sinbad...and no one else.

I made fun of Sinbad, Pat! How is it, then, that I didn't earn the commendation from you that I so desperately crave?

If my broken heart could speak, it might, fittingly enough, quote the very words you used in response to some of the "negative" comments directed your way on Deadspin:

"Yikes. It's like playing with fire!"

Yikes, indeed, Pat Coyle. Yikes, indeed.

Sorry, Ladies...Duckie Is Off the Market

When it comes to entertainment news, most blogs these days tend to focus their coverage on your Lindsay Lohans and your Paris Hiltons (and your occasional Angelina Jolie, when one wants to class things up). Where does that leave the internet peruser eager to stay informed of the latest ongoings in the personal lives of lesser-to-totally-forgetten celebrities?

Right here is where.

If for no other reason than holding the distinction of running a blog that featured the man twice in as many weeks, I'm here to tell you that Jon Cryer got married to Lisa Joyner over the weekend.

What are you going to do with that information?

Nothing?

You damn skippy.

I Love You, Pat Coyle

[Full disclosure: The source material in this post was snatched right off the coattails of Deadspin, the gold standard of sports-derived humor on the internet. I just couldn't help myself.]

As a Patriots fan, I used to be upset that New England puked up an 18-0 lead on the Indianapolis Colts in the 2007 AFC Championship Game in an eventual loss (you'd think that with eyes that big, Reche Caldwell could've not dropped a couple of passes) that allowed the Colts to go on and win a giveaway Super Bowl against a team led by the worst quarterback to ever appear in such a contest. And while I still think it would have been nice had Tom Brady not been able to get quite the early start on his offseason baby-making that he did, I have finally found something good that came of the Colts' Super Bowl victory:

The linguistic stylings of Pat Coyle.

Coyle, apparently, is the Executive Director of Digital Business for the Indianapolis Colts and as a member of the organization, he was able to partake in the Super Bowl ring ceremony Wednesday night. Let's ignore for our purposes the spurious validity of a team's "Executive Director of Digital Business" laying claim to a Super Bowl ring and focus instead on the magic that is Coyle's firsthand recap of the night's events.

The evening's alleged entertainment came courtesy of Sinbad (of "not being heard from in over a decade" fame), and one might presume that this cast a pall of sadness over the proceedings. Not in Indianapolis, and not for Pat Coyle! He in fact dedicates the bulk of his article to the altitudinous jokester, describing him as "flat out hilarious" and recounting an episode where he himself was "roasted" by Sinbad when he called into question Coyle's ability to assert himself in his marriage. Was Coyle angered by this affront? No, because--as he insightfully explains--"it was all in good fun." (He also unironically categorizes Sinbad's performance as "comedy".)

After expressing amazement over the fact that football fans in Indianapolis are interested in the Indianapolis Colts' Super Bowl rings ("Lots of people have asked me, 'are you getting a ring? did you get the ring yet?' and other similar questions"), Coyle backtracks to--from completely out of nowhere--drop some Jesus on us, describing how the appearance of a gospel choir helpfully reminded him that "all good and perfect things come from God."

He certainly does work in mysterious ways--I'll give you that much, Coyle. For while I had for many months been saddened by the Colts' Super Bowl victory, seeing it as a reminder of the Patriots' failure, I now see that it needed to happen in order to bring you into my life...and bless me with eternal gratitude for the collective fact that I don't live in Indianapolis and I never will.

Iranian Porn Stars May Be Forced to Fall Back on Their Doctorates

Look out, suicide bombers! Your long-unchallenged claim to the Most Dangerous Job in the Middle East™ [Ed. note: results based on educated guess] is in danger of being usurped. If that news alone makes you angry, you don't even want to know who's poised to steal your thunder.

As of Wednesday, an approval by the Guardian Council (Iran's constitutional watchdog) is all that stands in the way of pornography being punishable by death.

Don't worry, Iranian masturbators. It's not the consumers of smut who are targeted in the bill that was successful by a vote of 148-5 (!) in Iran's parliament, but rather the industry's producers, directors, cameramen and actors. The biggest loss for you if the Guardian Council approves the bill's proposal to execute these "corrupters of the world" is that you might have to start developing a more vivid imagination. In my day, that's all I had if I didn't want to risk getting caught looting my dad's stash.

Spoiled Rich Brat Inexplicably Not Endearing Herself to Incarcerated Felons

If you were the billionaire parent of an obnoxious twentysomething who had never had to work a day in her life, possessed no talents discernible to the human eye yet was world famous simply for being the offspring of a billionaire and said progeny one day found herself doing a stint in the big house, would you (a) take the opportunity to examine how you might have played a role, perhaps through less-than-stellar parenting during her formative years, in creating your daughter's current situation or (b) arrange for your daughter to receive special treatment that only served to disregard and complicate the day-to-day existence of her fellow inmates, some of them potentially murderous?

If you chose (b), congratulations! You're a Hilton!

On Tuesday, (presumably) non-billionaire visitors to the Los Angeles correctional facility that Paris Hilton currently calls home--many of whom had waited in line for hours to see their imprisoned loved ones--were passed over in favor of Paris' folks, who got to scoot on inside just after their arrival to spend quality time with their sex-tape-starring, one-pucker-faced-pose-for-photographs-having, probation-for-DUI-arrest-violating masterpiece.

Judging by the reactions of the non-incarcerated visitors to the prison, this incident--combined with the fact that Hilton is staying in the medical ward of the facility, which is much more private (not to mention significantly costlier to taxpayers) than general population, despite showing no clear signs of illness other than vague rumors of a "rash" that briefly got her out of jail altogether last week--it's fair to assume that the people who are already living behind bars are none too pleased with their most famous neighbor.

I'm sure Paris will be fine, however. She'll just have to keep her head down until the prison talent show, where she'll no doubt win the adoration of all the inmates by displaying the many gifts that brought her fame and fortune in the first place.

Bigger...Stronger...Elderlier.

I thought Lakers head coach Phil Jackson lived crazy healthy, with vegetarianism and yoga and puka shells and the like. So how the hell did he end up not having to get just one, but both of his hips replaced in a span of eight months?

Perhaps it's job stress that has damaged his physical well-being. If nothing else, at least Jackson is still in better shape than his team!

Heh? Right? 'Cause I heard they haven't been doing so well lately?

(To be perfectly honest, I actually don't follow the NBA all that closely anymore. Do the Lakers still have Greg Kite? That guy was a rainmaker.)

Side Effects May Include Dance Fever

Two years after the British revealed the possibility (along with the possibility of all kinds of other crazy shit), the Pentagon has confirmed to a CBS affiliate in Berkley, California that in 1994 the U.S. military proposed to build a so-called "Gay Bomb" that would defeat enemy combatants by making them want to have sex with one another.

While a Department of Defense spokesperson insists that the proposal (which included such patriotism-stirring verbiage as "One distasteful but completely non-lethal example would be strong aphrodisiacs, especially if the chemical also caused homosexual behavior") was immediately dismissed, Edward Hammond, a member of a Berkeley watchdog organization that tracks government spending who uncovered the information via the Freedom of Information Act, believes otherwise. He stated that "the Pentagon has used [the 'Gay Bomb' proposal] repeatedly and subsequently in an effort to promote non-lethal weapons, and in fact they submitted it to the highest scientific review body in the country for them to consider."

I'm no military strategist, but you know what I bet the next weapon the Pentagon tries to invent will be? A bomb that destroys the Freedom of Information Act. Then, if that fails, maybe an invisibility potion that everyone can use on themselves so that they can hide in a corner and cry uncontrollably. That's certainly what I would do.

"I Went Ahead and Ordered Some for the Table."

Some people were disappointed by it, but last night's series finale of "The Sopranos" made me feel quite vindicated, for I've said since the show's beginning that it was, at its core, about one thing above all else:

--SPOILER ALERT--

The deliciousness of onion rings.

(But seriously, spoiler alert. Don't watch the clip below if you haven't watched the final episode yet but plan to, AND you don't have a computer with internet access. But then how are you reading this? Crazy.)



UPDATE: "This video is no longer available," HBO? My TiVo says otherwise! I gave the whole episode "Save Until I Delete" status, just to drive you mad with impotent rage over the fact that I can watch it again and again and again...but I only paid for it once! Technically!

Brad Pitt Cleverly Doesn't Leave Space for a 'Maybe' Box Write-In

"I find you in the morning sky, in the sound of children's laughter, in the motion of every stirring wind."

First, the bad news: If you somehow, someday manage to fulfill your wildest dreams and become a rich, handsome movie star adored by millions the world over and who is (more or less) married to one of the most beautiful people in the world, who also happens to be a wealthy movie star adored by millions the world over...you will still be lame.

The good news? At least you have your health. Unless you don't. In which case I guess there is no good news.

Disposable Evil Sidekick to be Punished; Important Evil People Yawn

So Scooter Libby's going to prison for 30 months. If you think this is a victory against the corruption and tyranny of the current U.S. presidential administration, think again.

Guys like Scooter Libby are kept around by guys like Dick Cheney for the specific purpose of being thrown under the bus when the heat is on. It's the very reason Gene Hackman's Lex Luthor kept whoever Ned Beatty played around in the first two Superman movies.

And you know what? Libby wasn't even the Beatty character to Cheney's Luthor--that's lending him too much importance. He was more like Jon Cryer in Superman IV: The Quest for Peace. (That's the one where, best I can remember, Superman battles a gay erotic dancer made of nuclear power or something.)

Crazy Like a Butterfly

Back when Mike Tyson was in his fighting prime, everyone knew before he stepped into the ring that he was going to beat the living hell out of his opponent--the only question was how quickly.

Even though Iron Mike has long sinced moved on from professional boxing to become a full-time lunatic, he has retained some of the mystery from his days as the world's greatest pugilist. Yes, it's easy to assume that every move he makes publicly will be batshit insane...but there is absolutely no way to guess what direction it will come from.

Case in point? Tyson's recent announcement that he is going to act in Bollywood (not to mention the fact that he kind of sort of already has (see clip)).

Try as we might, there's no predicting the route this guy's crazy train will take next. Let's give the man his due and wait for, say...the Indian live-action film adaptation of "Punch-Out!!"*

[Ed. note: Is that idea ridiculous or awesome? I'd better call my agent just to be safe.]