Occupy Friday Afternoon

In a recent article on slate.com Dahlia Lithwick argues the OWS messages can’t be tailored to news sound bites. The problems which the protestors are protesting are complex and diverse. The article included a link to a sign slide show, so I decided to go through the slides to see if I could shed some light on what exactly is being protested. As politics is always controversial I try to avoid them at all costs, but it’s Friday, and some of the signs are pretty ridiculous, especially after reading the article praising them.


Ok. Not so much a cause, but a clear statement of why she’s here. She should post up at the entrance as kind of an introduction sign.


A bit extreme. I’m not sure what greed has to do with fascism. I mean, I’m sure there’s a correlation, but saying anyone who wants more money is fascist isn’t right (some of your protesting buddies want money) and the number of fascists that play a significant role in the American economy isn’t that big. American conservatism is a long way from fascism.


I have a tough time supporting a guy who gave away secret government documents. Kinda sounds like treason to me. Admittedly, most of the documents leaked didn’t seem to threaten national security, but would you want all of your emails and text messages made public? Now imagine instead of your mom, boss, or significant other getting pissed about one of those messages it’s a country that can choose to either tell you where the bomb maker is or help him hide from you.


This could be an indictment of the job Bernanke has done, which is pretty harsh as he presided over the worst economic crisis since the great depression and avoided anarchy. Could also just be a face to use for the machine in general, which would make sense as that would mean this protestor wants anarchy, in which case Bernanke didn’t do a good job.


A fat joke. Nice. Not sure how constructive it is as he is only one of many fat Americans. And it’s likely unwarranted as Christie probably didn’t affect this person personally unless, of course, he is a New Jersey school teacher. And you’re not exactly slim yourself, Mr. Sign holder.


This is my least favorite sign. First, it’s obviously a lie. If she didn’t want us to look she would’ve worn close and not written something on her stomach. I’m guessing the real message is on her stomach, which is much harder to read than the clearly printed sign telling me not to look at her. More importantly, I DON”T WANT TO LOOK AT HER. She is what artists call not attractive. I’m having flashbacks of that uncomfortable Alanis Morissette video. Hey, I bet she’s around the protest somewhere.


Hand out, eh. At least it’s clear: give me something for nothing. Got it.


If I take this sign way too literally, it’s logically flawed. While all bullshit is shit, not all shit is bullshit. If this is read figuratively, then it’s just pointless, which is silly.


I like the offer to work together message this poster is sending, but it doesn’t look like that octopus is helping that shark. Looks cool, though.


No way that 2 year old wrote that sign. He is cute, though.


First Sign: 309,160,326 speak as one
Solidarity. I like it. Too bad, looking at all the other signs, it isn’t really true.

Second Sign: When the rich rob the poor it’s called business
Actually, business is when 2 parties agree to exchange goods, usually money for some good or service. I could counter with, when the poor rob the rich it’s called social programs, but that would just lead to yelling and divert attention from the falseness of this sign. Businesses make things. Things you like, like that cool smart phone or those jeggings you’ve had your eyes on.


2 points here. First is the fact that we’re involved in wars with no clear enemy. This is a result of being in another countries civil war as well as the fact terrorism isn’t a nationality. The second is that the enemy at home is clear. Except it isn’t clear to me. Is it anyone that has a lot of money? Or all bankers that make a certain amount of money. If anything, this sign underlines just how hard it is to define who’s to blame.


What job does this guy have where he can get fired for stating an opinion outside of working hours unless, of course, he’s doing it when he’s supposed to be working. In that case he’ll actually lose his job for not doing his job, not for having a voice. But hey, then he can protest losing his job because the economy was out to get him along with all his friends.


Hard to fight execs getting jets, since that’s part of the reason people strive and work to become executives (yes, it takes a lot of work to run a multinational firm) and it’s hard to call someone who gets a salary a slave, but point taken. this poster reminds me about the whole golden parachute thing, where execs get out and the employees get screwed. That should be addressed.


First Sign
Money? It has something to do with money, I’m guessing. You’re made of money? No, that wouldn’t make sense. You want money? That would fit in with the whole handout/entitlement theme. No, I think quarter face is saying something more. Money is the root of evil? I’m going with that. But where does money come from? The root of money is actually production, as evidenced by the fact national wealth is measured by Gross Domestic Production. So it would follow, then, that being productive is evil. So being unemployed is actually a good thing, so this guy has nothing to protest.

Second Sign
I heard a good piece of fatherly advice once: “You deserve nothing. Remember that.” Just because you expected something because other people had it doesn’t mean it’s actually yours or that someone owes it to you. Recessions suck. Adjust your expectations.


Pointing out the increasing gap between the rich and poor. Either that, or he wants a billion dollars for nothing. I’m going with the former as it is a pertinent point that it should be, at the very least, analyzed why the gap is growing.


People with money got it through murder. A little extreme, but it’s a drawing of a pig, so it doesn’t seem so bad.


Somebody got a humanities degree. Shocking he doesn’t have a job. But Diogenes was looking for any honest man, so limiting it to wall st. execs makes you only partially cynical, which isn’t fair to the corrupt execs.


The clearest point this sign is making is that Jesus was black. This argument resulted in one of the better posthumous 2pac songs. I don’t think the apostles had a health care plan, though, unless you count Jesus being able to miracle away any problem from herpes to lupus, and America can’t afford that plan. It also should be mentioned that, just as conservatives and bankers aren’t actually fascists, Obama and liberals aren’t actually Socialists.


I don’t know about 99%, but probably 96.5% of America can agree the Tea Party is a bunch of douchbags. As for taxing the rich, this article lays out why simply increasing the percent wealthy people have to pay isn’t a good idea. Rather, getting rid of deductables and raising the capital gains and dividend tax will disproportionally affect rich people, be easier to implement, and won’t discourage new investment.


Now this is a cause I can get behind. Not sure how big an effect bank fees have on the economy, but they are annoying. I suppose they also line banks pockets while making it harder for poor people to keep money in banks.


First Sign
Lots of money/skeleton motifs and they aren’t really consistent. Is the skeleton dead because it only cared about money, or did it die because it didn’t have enough to survive? Not really clear, but that brings up a point of the somewhat hypocritical message: Having money is bad (greedy bankers), but wanting money is good (unemployed). So it’s ok to want money, until you actually get it.

Second Sign: Tax Wall Street
Wall Street is taxed, via corporate taxes. Problem solved.


I’m going to interpret this as big businesses having so much power in DC through lobbying and campaign contributions. Valid point. Something really should be done to curb this trend. We don’t need any more lobbyists buying casinos.

Life’s a Journey (which is also a great band) Part 1

Not to be outdone by my friend at ThingsThatMakeGiselleLaugh I’ve decided to embark on an adventure week of my own. Now, empirical data has shown working out 5 times a week causes my deteriorating body to break down, inviting a host of lovely illnesses and a cycle of sick, recovering/getting sick, sick again that lasts for months. In an attempt to avoid another such medical odyssey while still managing to not catch up on Real Housewives of Harlem (The chicks are packed![skip to 1:15]), this week’s activities are a mix of exercise, mental stretching, and otherwise uplifting endeavors. Shall we begin?

God rested on the 7th day, which is actually Saturday, so the world population of Christians is misguided on at least one point. Who knows, there could be more. The point is Sunday is the first day of the week, not the seventh, which I celebrated by attending a Bikram Yoga class. For those of you who aren’t super yuppie or hipster or whatever group people who like things other people like are put in, Bikram Yoga takes all the uncomfortableness of regular yoga and puts it in a 102 degree room with 80% humidity, then speeds it up. So, for those expecting a relaxing meditative experience, this isn’t it.

In order to improve in your Bikram practice, it is recommended to attend at least 2 classes a week. So, naturally, I go about once a month. Every time I go it takes 2 to 30 minutes in I realize I’ve yet again made a huge mistake. My body stops responding to my orders and the act of thinking itself becomes more and more burdensome. At first I thought it was because I wasn’t hydrated enough. Then I wasn’t breathing right (if you don’t breath, you die). Now my theory is the whole not eating 4 hours beforehand leads to a dearth of calories and I don’t have the energy to last the whole class. We’ll test that hypothesis next month and, hopefully, I can make it the full 90 minutes without pondering whether a will should’ve been drawn up beforehand.

To celebrate cleansing my body of toxins, I dedicated Sunday supper to replenishing my body with new ones. An eclectic feast of corn on the cob, asparagus, swordfish, Wagyu (American version of Kobe) beef and peaches was seared on a familial grill and immediately devoured. The fact that grilling, similar to deep frying, makes all foods better was once again. If I had to chose one summertime activity for the rest of my life grilling just might be it. It’s easy (you can do it every day), it takes advantage of the warm summer weather, it can be cheap, there’s no travel required, and it goes well with beer. Vegetables are easy: salt, pepper, olive oil, grill. Fruit is an underrated grilling item. The sugar caramelizes on the grill. If you want more caramilization, add more sugar. And if it’s not sweet/alcoholic enough, a little amaretto marinade never did a fruit wrong. And then there’s the steak. Some believe fear makes meat taste better (that’s why lobsters are boiled alive, right?). But after tasting the flesh of an animal that has been fed beer and massaged daily its whole life, it’s succulently clear a happy cow is a delicious cow.

Sweaty Sunday was followed by Martial Arts Monday (Yes, all themed days must be alliterative). I first partook in a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu class. BJJ is what MMA fighters are doing when they’re on the ground and it looks like they’re just hugging each other. For experienced masters, BJJ is a slow, deliberate, chess match. For me, it is an unwinnable battle to keep myself from being choked or getting an arm broken. Despite its violent nature and the understanding I won’t be able to hold my own for at least the first year it’s a lot of fun. After every class I can’t wait to come back to get imperceptivity better. It’s kind of like a drug, including the headache the next day!

Next up in the deadly arts: Krav Maga or, as my roommate calls it, Jew-Do. Krav is an Israeli self defense developed by a Polish Jew trying to protect his neighborhood in the 1930’s. Later it was honed to be used by Israeli Special Forces. In other words, this is for people that have to defend themselves on a daily basis from some of the greatest world enemies in the last century. I will never insult anyone from Israel or has even visited there.

Krav Maga is currently my favorite pastime for several reasons. First, it’s practical. It’s like home owner insurance: Your house most likely will never burn down. You may never even know anyone whose house burns down. But you want insurance because if lightning strikes it would really suck if you didn’t have it. I don’t plan on getting in any fights or having a gun pulled on me, but if that ever happens I’ll sure be glad I spent years learning what to do in that situation. Second plus: It is an awesome work out. It’s not complicated. 15 minutes of some combination of running, jump roping, ab work, pushups, and lunges to get you nice and tired before learning how to make someone trying to hurt you regret their life choices.

As I currently have no tequila, Tuesday has no theme. But thanks to my well connected roommate, I got floor tickets and VIP parking to the The Mars Volta/Soundgarden concert. Fo Free. Definitely the best free show I’ve seen. I don’t know if it was worth the $120 they were charging for floor tix, but it’s hard to think of a 2 band lineup that would be. The Mars Volta was a little more subdued than I was hoping, but they did rock out on their closer. Other than the ripped faux-fro’d drummer, the whole band is skinny and awkward, which resurrected my hopes of being a rock star…until I remembered I can’t sing or and have no musical talent (single tear). 15 minutes later Chris Cornell and his Seattle friends showed up to remind people grunge wasn’t all as simple as Nirvana songs. I didn’t realize how many Soundgarden songs I knew until I was nodding along to half their set (didn’t know well enough to sing, but they sounded familiar).

Half way there (whao! Living on a Prayer). The ever present siren call of the fast food/couch/tv triumvirate looms larger as temptations mount, but momentum is a force that must be taken full advantage of as long as she shines her warm glowing warming glow upon you. Tune in next time to see what happens next. Same bat time. Same bat channel. (Warning: time and channel subject to change)

Pittsburgh: First Impressions of an American City

On the way to somewhere between tipsy and incapacitated, the sounds of forty flat screens blanketing us, I asked a well-traveled friend to list his top cities to visit in the US. His top three cities: New York, New York, and New York. Not surprising if you know my friend or spent more than one night in the super city. But when Pittsburgh was included among the remaining cities I was stunned. Like, Elmer Fudd when cross-dressed Bugs Bunny passes double take stunned. This being a not uncommon response, my friend was ready to adamantly defend his opinion. Spirited nightlife, friendly people, and plenty of activities were among its reasons for inclusion. Since then I’ve waited for an excuse to check it out for myself. That excuse finally came last weekend.

I tag along with a pair of friends, who happen to be brothers, heading to Pittsburgh to visit one of their girlfriends and go to the Steelers game. The trip begins with a trip to the East End Brewery, a small microbrewery I assume is on the east side of the city (I’m terrible with geography). On the way I’m introduced to the Pittsburgh left turn. From what I can tell, there are no turn lanes or green turn arrows in the whole city. This is likely the reason cars turning left gun it when the light changes to beat oncoming traffic. I don’t know how I feel about that, but thought it good to know for any non-natives navigating the area by motor conveyance.

We make a turn you wouldn’t see unless you know it’s there into an alley I’m more likely to visit to get coke or stabbed than beer. We go up to a door that has a piece of paper reading “We’re Open” in about 16 point font taped to it. Inside there is a counter with 8 taps behind it and a man ready to hand out as many free samples as you ask for. I don’t know his name, so I’ll call him Santa. We each have between 3 and 16 samples (who can keep track of this stuff) on our non linear path to deciding which to buy. A few other people come in to the hallway sized room and it is now crammed. We fill several growlers for later which we sling over our backs, singing “Hi ho, hi ho, off to drink we go” on our walk to the car.

I was expecting Pittsburgh to have food for people with strong backs. Not low quality, just designed to fill you up at a decent price after a long days’ work. That’s exactly what the famous Primanti Bros. sandwich is. There’s nothing special about it. It’s just a damn good sandwich with fries in it. Aside from the coleslaw, I could make one myself if I wanted to, which I do, and probably will when I get home because sandwiches are flippin’ awesome!

What I hadn’t anticipated was an abundance of high end culinary treats. I had heard Pittsburgh is cheap. A limo to drive you back and forth between clubs is something like $5 a person for the night. The truth is going out in Pittsburgh can be cheap. When Kobe beef filet and Bison Rib-eye are on the menu, perogies no longer seem like the best option. This was the dilemma I encountered at the second microbrewery on the trip (Does Pittsburgh have more breweries than DC?).

Church Brew Works is actually in an old church. Behind the bar fermentation tanks sit below stain glass windows. 2 rows of columns strung together by arches hold up the stories high paneled ceiling. The cascading echoes bestow a German beer hall atmosphere. On a related note, I found my new religion. In the name of Pumpkin Stout, we pray. That’s right, they had a pumpkin stout. I tasted it, and I now know that God is good.

When I order dinner I ask the waitress if she can bring a beer when the food is ready instead of right away. She said she might not remember since they are so busy, which I completely understand as they are packed. But when my steak arrives (I went with the Kobe beef) she had my beer! The same thing happens with the check: we ask if she can split it and she tells us she hasn’t had time to do any splitting, which we take to mean we have to do it ourselves. But a few minutes later she returns with everything split correctly. It would have been perfectly fine had she not done either, which makes the fact she did more noticeable. We head to a pizza place/tap room to meet up with more friends, but from here on out mental documentation of events is spotty, at best.

I believe DC is a football town. Washingtonians band themselves to the Redskins more closely than anything else. But when you walk down the street on Sunday every single person isn’t wearing a Redskin jersey or shirt. That’s how it is in Pittsburgh. Men, women, and children all decked out in black and yellow. It would be very hard to grow up here and be a fan of another team.
But they’re not dicks about it. In some other Pennsylvania cities, wearing a different team’s colors has a similar result to wearing red in a Crypt neighborhood (Note: being willing to punch a stranger in the face because he likes another team which isn’t even a division rival does not make you a better fan than them. It makes you a jerk). In Pittsburgh they’ll probably make a joke about it and cheers your drink. I saw a couple of guys in Raiders attire getting heckled. But instead of shit eating grins, the hecklers had light hearted, drunkenly warm smiles. There was no cruel intent, and the Raiders fans could see that and answered with similar expressions and taunts. Pittsburgh even makes Raiders fans nicer!

At Jerome Bettis Grille 36 I go to the bar to start a tab. The bartender makes a point to tell me not to leave because he’ll give my credit card right back (CC holding policy varies state to state and even bar to bar). I appreciate he doesn’t assume I know because most of the time I’m left standing awkwardly trying to decipher the policy based on the bartender’s proceeding actions. (By the way, the beer I purchased on that tab: Atwater Vanilla Java Porter. This beer was so good half way through it I took a sip and was re-surprised by how good it was. I had some good beers in Pittsburgh, but the best was from Michigan. ) At dinner, my friend ends a sentence with “No worries” which the waitress responds to with a Lion King reference. We both find this hilarious and take a liking to our server. She wasn’t friendly in a “I’m going to go along with your antics to get a tip” way. She was just being herself.

Everyone in my group comments on multiple sports bars’ uncanny ability to perpetually play songs which incite joy. Aside from standard Eighties classics like “Thunderstruck”, “Beat It”, and “Jump”, there were early Nineties gems like “Return of the Mac” and “Motownphilly” (Yes, Boyz II Men had songs before stupid “I’ll Make Love to You” and, no, they weren’t all laughable baby making music). I will say Pittsburgh may not be aware of music released in the last 10 years, but I’m ok with that.
I’m ok with Pittsburgh in general. People mistakenly believe it is an ugly city. It is simply a city not trying to be pretty. Everything is as it needs to be and nothing else. There is no superficial ornamentation. Even the sculptures have an understated elegance. Concrete steps climb up to boxy, pointed houses of stacked brick or stone, mimicking the mountains they’re built upon. Medieval looking Churches watch over every street corner. Century old buildings and factories are interspersed throughout, evoking the industrial era that once made this city one of the most important in the country. The financial towers inheriting their place of commercial import overlook the river, forming an unexpected skyline. This all blends under a sky implying the impending harsh winter to cast a modern gothic tint over the city.

But the light grey haze from the mixture of crisp mountain air and the dust of generations of austere architecture belies the disposition of the people. Pittsburgh is known as the steel city, but these are not steel workers. They are the children or even grandchildren of steel workers. They carry that blue collar mentality but aren’t necessarily blue collar. Like the utilitarian beauty of the city, people are naturally friendly but don’t go out of their way to prove it.

Can one learn the essence of a city from one weekend? Probably not. These are merely reactions to pre existing opinions. I thought I could hit all the vital points in one shot, but apparently there’s more in Western Pennsylvania than Yuengling and Iron City. Another journey is clearly in order…but I think I’ll wait ‘til spring.

It Burns So Good: Destruction and Shenanigans in Atlantic City

In the past year three of my friends decided to end their lives. Only instead of painting the wall with cherry pie or prolonged exposure to a Fran Drescher sitcom, they’ve chosen to slowly grind down their souls over the course of several decades like rain weathering mountains. For women reading this: 1) Why are you reading this? 2) They got engaged. This cubed suicide led to the debauched conclusion that a bachelor party must take place in Atlantic City: catering to the lowest common denominator since 1976. And I was there, too.

My brother, Mark, has been married for almost 10 years. When I asked him at his eldest daughter’s 6th birthday why he was going to AC by himself he replied, (with bloodshot eyes) “I haven’t had a day off since Christmas. I think I’ve earned it.” I meet up with him at the Borgata around 11 Thursday night. If there were a race between casinos in AC, the Borgata would be Darren Sproles and the rest would be the down syndrome all-stars. Rewards at the Borgata are accumulated much faster, dining options are plentiful and higher in quality, the décor isn’t as obnoxious as a Jersey Shore/Laguna Beach crossover, and the employees don’t act like you’re insulting them as you tip them for shitty service (e.g. Somehow a drink spills as a server hands it to bachelor #1: El Matador. She yells “Jesus Christ” and walks away). My brother's downing red bulls despite saying drinking red bulls all night falls in the not good category. At some point I’m up $200, but by 5:30 I’m down $100 and its time for bed.

9:30 – back to blackjack. I get back to even before 2 ladies sit down at our table and I win $300 in 1 shoe. When it’s done they leave and we decide it’s a good time for lunch, which is paid for by our playing blackjack for 7 hours (score!). The first gaggle of idiots isn’t getting in until 10, so I take the scenic route to the Tropicana. Along the way I learn a few things. Did you know: there is nothing on this earth sexier, believe me gentlemen, then 2 Asian women yelling “Why you do that?!” after one of them doesn’t pay you on a win in Paigow and you don’t point out she messed up fast enough. So confusing and arousing at the same time. Not really, it was actually annoying and angering, but that story isn’t as good.

Have you ever played a video game for several straight hours, days, or weeks and suddenly realized it’s not fun anymore; you’re just going through the motions? That’s what 2-4 limit hold ‘em is like, only you’re losing money to a whole menagerie of social rejects, including the always crowd pleasing female mullet and the guy next to me who might have been from New Jersey and tells me what hand he had and how close he would have been to winning had he not folded every single hand. By 8 I’ve lost most of my winnings and am sitting at a bar by myself.

The first of many bachelorette parties I see over the weekend comes in. They’re all around 40 and it's the bachelorette's second marriage (Side note: The bachelorette tells me the best age to get married is around 43: Right on track). They’re a pretty lively bunch, and since my friends still aren’t here and they start buying me drinks I accompany them to another bar and then the craps table until 10.

In the 20 minutes I wander trying to connect with the first set of fucktards, which includes bachelor #2: Goose, I see:
• A guy peeing on a plant in full view of the gambling public
• A guy at a slot machine bent over puking
• A guy I saw a half hour before on the verge of vomiting/falling over/staggering into anything with his friends trying to keep him standing. He’s in the same condition only without his friends

I don’t remember much about the next 6 hours. One dealer, Tao, must have just finished his doctorate in rapeology because the whole table is pummeled like woo girls at a club on ladies night with special guest Ben Roethlisberger. Finally some $15 blackjack tables open up and Sluegar and I settle in for the grind. Things are looking good…and it’s gone. By 7 I’m down $150 and the only person up besides us is Fart Factory who stays up until 10 playing poker.

We wake up around 11 and dial it in before lunch. It’s established everyone is down at least a $100. I find out bachelor El Matador isn’t coming because he has to work Saturday and Sunday. I call him and explain he will be dead in 2 months and this is his last chance to do anything fun ever. A barrage of texts from the rest of our contingent ensues and he finally concedes. At PF Changs, which was lovely, we have a group of about 10. Half of us are served appetizers before the other half’s orders are taken. I’m not sure if I can overemphasize how low the average IQ level of AC Casino employees is, but Simple Jack would be in the running for Valedictorian. (If any casino employees read this, let me just say thank you for all your hard work. Yours is the back the Atlantic City economy is built on. Without you it wouldn’t be possible to…wait, reading this would require knowledge of the Internet…and literacy. I think I’m in the clear.)

We head to the bar to watch soccer, which I don’t care about but I am firmly in Gamblor’s neon claw, and begin betting on everything from arcade games to over under on flops in the soccer game. You see, gambling makes things better. Its what I like to call an awesomeness enhancer. Other awesomeness enhancers include bacon, alcohol, and possibly girls in bikinis. I can’t think of any service or industry that couldn’t be improved by some girls in bikinis.

After some craps with Dr. Thundah, Fro and Goose, I find Sluegar at a blackjack table with some of our group behind him. I ask him how he’s doing which he answers by pulling 4 or 5 black chips from his pocket. I realize he’s lost the ability to stop talking or make sense – my favorite drunk Sluegar stage (followed by eyes closed mumbling incoherently). The table loves him. I watch as he and the Spanish gentleman next to him are showered with winnings, including the Spaniard calling a 4 followed by a 10 to get 21, which my mind can’t fathom because it is blown. While there I receive reports Fro and the Doctah are up big at craps and have gained the admiration of their table as well. I tell Sluegar everyone’s going to dinner, but he’s staying there because if he leaves that seat I will stab him.

At dinner our party of 11 is surpassed by one of about 20 behind us who’s soulful rendition of Happy Birthday is on par with Marvin Gaye’s rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. Our BullDike-ish waitress arrives and immediately starts wrestling Viktor for the spoon he’s using to launch mints into a cup. I’m worried she’ll remove him via headlock so I distract her from the retardery by ordering wine. Family style dinning begins and Fro dominates 3 on 3 mint launch.

One more session of blackjack, which is just enough to win back all the money I've lost. With a plan so simple, nothing could possiblye go wrong. I am quickly down money and ask the dealer, Tien, if she knows Tao. She does! Viktor and I tell her their playing styles are similar, and we want to be her friend but she’s not playing fair. She does not like us, or our light-hearted antics. Bachelor #3: The Wolf shows up and things turn slightly positive. I’ve stopped drinking and decide to try counting cards again. The count gets up to 20 and I press my bets big. I win $200 in 4-6 hands but forget to keep counting and lose it in the next shoe and ½. I decide to call it an early night and go to bed at 3:30.

In a way we all won this weekend. But in another, more correct way, some of us lost such that we now require a second job because some asshole decided to have his wedding in Hawaii. So, who won the weekend? I’ve put together my pertinent stats and I think I’ve got a shot. I encourage fellow bumblers to post theirs as well so pointless debate can commence, a champion can be crowned and maximum heckling can be achieved.

Stat line for the weekend (Total, daily average):

Player Name: Divac
Hours gambling: 30, 10
Hours sleeping: 12, 4
Drinks consumed (approx.) 45, 15
Winnings -$550, -$183
*Bonus stat: 696 PSI on punching game, compared to 949 by random large man at the bar

Scott’s Summer Movie Preview

Summer brings us lots of treats: Sunshine, grilling, vacations, and blockbuster movies. I tend to shy away from the $200 theatre tickets and wait patiently for Netflix to bring the movies to me (I just got Pineapple Express after a month of waiting). But there are some particularly intriguing movies in this year’s summer crop which just scream big screen. So, after checking out the list this less than busy afternoon, here are 5 movies I’m looking forward to.

1. Terminator Salvation (May 21)

I’ve been waiting for this movie since I heard Christian Bale was in it (I’ve had a crush on him since American Psycho). The Terminator Trilogy is all about trying to win a future war between man and machines. Now the movie’s about the actual war. No more whiny kids who can’t act. Say goodbye to Arnold with a coffin full of guns against the LAPD. We finally get to see what the big deal is with John Conner and, as a bonus , we get to find out “"how Michael Biehn became so awesome that Linda Hamilton would sleep with him." -Anton Yelchin, who will portray Kyle Reese in TS. Oh yeah, and then there was this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLXVuy0h29c

2. Public Enemies (July 1)

Christian Bale (is there a theme here?) and Johnny Depp star in this drama about John Dillenger (Depp) and the guy chasing him (Bale) It’s been a while since there’s a been a good mob movie, and probably longer since there was one with this level of talent. I’m going to go back to 1997’s Donnie Brasco, which starred Al Pacino and, guess who, Johnny Depp (as well as a convincingly straight Anne Heche). If Bale can bring back his “I’m going to do whatever’s right because it’s the right thing to do” attitude from 3:10 to Yuma this could be another one to add to the collection.

3. Inglorious Basterds (August 21)

Other than Christian Bale, my favorite actor is probably Brad Pitt. Team him up with Quentin Tarantino in a movie about Nazi killers and I’m sold. Apparently Tarantino announce he was making this movie before Grindhouse and Kill Bill, which scare me a little. But I’m interested to see what he does with a serious war movie, which should be quite a contrast from his smirking, overly violent norm.

4. G.I. Joe (August 7)

This movie could be really bad. Odds are it will be. But given the modern trend of making somewhat believable action movies (Borne trilogy, new Bond movies, new Batman movies) it’s got a shot. Plus G.I. Joe’s are just diesel. Each ones different. They got an Indian, a ninja, a guy that just likes to blow stuff up. Throw in some sex appeal (Rachel Nichols) and I’m willing to give it a chance. And hey, if it sucks, you always got the PSA’s: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4OPr_QxoFg

5. Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (June 26)

I’m not a big Transformers fan. I never watched the show. I didn’t even like the first one. But after watching the Dark Knight on IMAX, I think I could enjoy 70 foot tall cars turning into things and kicking the crap out of each other.

Welcome to: NEMESIS

In my estimation the primary purpose of drinking games is to drink. Specifically, to drink faster than one otherwise would were they not playing the game. If you’re drinking at the same casual pace you normally would why don’t you drink while playing a non-drinking game? Like checkers, or whatever it is idiots play. I forgot of the existence of games that don’t involve alcohol around 12, so I don’t really know. Some would say I have a problem. I say it’s a solution. But I digress.

Games employ several tactics to encourage increased drinking. Most card games use the number system (Drink 7, drink double, finish your beer, etc.). This is faulty because it is dependent on the honor system, which doesn’t work at a party when people don’t know each other (or you have dishonest friends). It also focuses on quantity as opposed to quickness, so you end up with an impossible amount to drink and just quit. “Drink this whole beer!” “Ok, I will, while walking away and over the next 30 minutes. "

My favorite games take advantage of team pressure. The first team to finishes wins, so you have to drink as fast as you can or else you hurt your team. If not for yourself, do it for your country. Boat races, Flip Cup, Speed Pong, and NEMESIS are all based on this premise. Beer pong is turn based so no advantage is gained from drinking quickly.

NEMESIS, like Speed Pong, was born because beer pong is inadequate for the serious drinker. It has everything one could like about beer pong, only more of it. All who have grown accustomed to it can no longer play regular pong due to its vast inferiority.

Rules

NEMESIS is 21 cup 3 on 3 pong. The returning winners each pick a player from the challenging team as their NEMESIS. Each pair of nemesi share a ball, meaning there are 3 balls in play but a player will only ever shoot one of them. Every cup you hit is drunk by your NEMESIS and each cup they hit is drunk by you. You do not have to wait for your teammates to get their balls to shoot. Another way to look at it is 3 games of one on one sharing the same rack. Cups are racked on 10 and 6 only, so if you’re stupid and hit a cup before you rack you don’t get it. Your team does need all balls in order to rack. There is no redemption.

After spelling out the rules I’ve noticed it in no way conveys what NEMESIS is. It’s sorta like the Matrix; you have to experience it. 21 cups split equally means each person’s drinking 7, which is more than normal 1 on 1 beer pong or 2 on 2 ten cup. This, however, almost never happens. Someone inevitably gets 10 or more cups drained on them and has to sit in the corner to contemplate what their life has become, only they can’t because their brain has been washed away by a flash flood of frothy beverage. 21 cups gives a shooter ample opportunity to dial it in, and 3 or 4 cups can be sunk in a matter of minutes. This sets up prime opportunity for trash talking since you can hone your insults in on one person instead of two, with no denial that they are less of a man (or woman) than you. And since there are now 6 personalities involved instead of 4, the potential hilarity of verbal defecation is multiplied.

Strategy also comes into play. How should Nemesi be matched up? If one person is dominating their NEMESIS, they can be taken out of the game by their NEMESIS holding the ball, forcing a 2 on 2 game. This is hard for anyone with an ego to do, of which there is an overabundance in NEMESIS, but after drinking 6 cups in 5 minutes most are willing to consider their options. This tactic has caused several nonconsecutive arguments of a boisterous nature, but if you don’t like it don’t have teammates that suck.

Interested? Confused? Excitedly thirsty!? If you would like to experience the destruction of NEMESIS first hand and live in the Arlington area a 16 team tournament is being planned sometime in the near future. Contact me for further details.

3. 2. 1. NEMESIS!

Welcome to: SPEED PONG

As my life has progressed through time I’ve found the people I choose to spend my time with have several essential traits in common with myself. One circle in particular likes drinking, competition, not being bored, and having a degree from a certain institution of higher learning. As such we tend to improve and create drinking games to support our insatiable and downright dangerous competitive drinking habits.

Speed Pong is close to my heart as I am one of its originators. There’s bound to be other games referred to as Speed Pong floating throughout drinking communities, but these rules, which evolved in one of the finest drinking laboratories in the nation, foster a truly intense and exciting exhibit. I love to play it and I love watching others play. It rivals basketball as my favorite sport. Oh yes, it’s a sport. Maintaining a high level of play is difficult due to cardiovascular fatigue as well as increased inebriation. It is not for the casual drinker. If you don’t enter the arena ready to give 108% of your focus and energy your liver will be annihilated, and your self esteem will be battered due to merciless heckling until my throat is soar.

Rules

Speed Pong is derived from Beer Pong, a.k.a. Beirut (“Real” beer pong is retarded. How many parties have paddles?). Beer Pong has many variations itself, leading to countless drunken arguments with no relative points other than “Your rules are stupid and you’re girlfriends ugly.” So, first let’s go over pong rules as they relate to SP:

1. 2 on 2 six cup, triangle formation
2. Bounces count as 2 cups and can be defended

Now for the speed rules:
1. All shots are live. If you shoot and miss you can chase down the ball and shoot again.
2. No possession of multiple balls. If your partner is shooting you cannot be holding a ball. Water cup counts as possession
3. Your team cannot shoot until made cups are drank. If you have a ball and the other team hits a cup, you must drop or throw the ball.
4. No reracks, no redemption

Simple enough, right? Well these rules open an entire new dimension never before seen in pong based drinking games. Shooting is still important, but it tends to be overemphasized by new players used to playing traditional beer pong. The magic of Speed Pong lies in these added dimensions.

Rebounding: this includes catching balls off the cup or table quickly but primarily refers to chasing down balls in the field. Rebounding leads to more shots, so if 2 two teams are about equal in shooting the better rebounding team will win. Reaction time and desire are key ingredients to a good rebounder.

Rebounding also includes interference. You cannot possess the ball if your partner is drinking or shooting, but you can impede the other team from possessing. Kicking, batting and standing in the way are all legal. Naturally interference can be countered by aggressive rebounding, resulting in a game within the game away from the table. (Note: the level of legal physical contact has not yet been clearly defined. Ramming, checking into cars, and picking up and moving opponents are all moves which have been used and hotly contested.)

Passing: Balls will be rebounded all over the place: Behind the opponent, under the table after diving, down the hall. If the other team is in a precarious position getting back to shooting position can waste precious seconds. Being able to accurately throw a tiny hollow ball from various positions ranging from on your stomach to in the neighbor’s yard can result in momentum changing plays. Yes, momentum is a tangible aspect of Speed Pong. Hitting 3 cups in a row, forcing a player to drink 2 cups after running around for the last 5 minutes like a chihuahua on speed, can break even the most embiggoned spirit.

Communication: With beer pong you can talk to friends, dance and take bathroom breaks. In Speed pong if you open your mouth it better be to help your teammate or help explain to the other team how bad they are at everything they do and just how worthless they are as people. Helping your teammate locate a ball, calling out a forthcoming pass, or signaling when you’ve shot or finished drinking saves possessions and time in a game where both are rare commodities.
The accelerated pace of the game can rattle players, especially when their team is missing shots or losing rebounds. This is when expertly timed trash talk can evaporate the will of the weak, giving the edge to the player focused on the triumph of victory.

If you wanna have a few friends over, hang out, maybe throw on the new Hannah Montana cd, Speed Pong is not an element you want to introduce. It is an event in itself made with the serious drinker in mind, preferably with a sports background. It has found a niche as a day after party activity affectionately named Speed Pong Sunday. “We could clean and move the furniture back, or we could use the leftover half keg. Hmmm…” I encourage all hearty beerthletes to test the fast beer soaked waters and see if their fancy is tickled. I hope for Speed Pong to sometime be a recognized event so I can realize my dream of becoming a Speed Pong coach (Go Kentucky Klickies!). Until that day (or Bacon Day, whichever comes first) I will enjoy the small yet devoted society of competitive drinkers of which I’m currently a member and continue to work towards the perfect alignment of drinking and games.

Next Week: Welcome to NEMESIS

King James Still a Prince

The national criticism LeBron James received during the Cavaliers series with the Wizards was surprising, considering he is one of the most popular players in the league. In truth, the instigators of all the trash talking were Wizards roll players. So why is LeBron now villainized as a whiner?

Because he feels entitled to a status he is not yet entitled to. Because he went straight to the refs every time he touched utterly outraged there was no foul called. He wants to be the next Jordan, and he probably will be, but he hasn’t earned Jordan’s calls. Do you think Jordan was getting the calls he got in 96 back in 89? Hell no! Jordan had to go through the Pistons, Celtics, and Lakers to earn the right to be considered the best. People growing up with the championship MJ probably don’t realize he was somewhat of a punk in his early years. I have a great picture of him going up for a 180 with a gold chain around his neck. He showed up to an all-star game one year wearing a fur coat at the airport. In that same all-star game no one passed MJ the ball in a freeze out led by Isiah Thomas. Jordan complained just as much as LeBron complained last week, but Jordan got the respect from the refs after he went through the Knicks/Pistons Jordan Rules experience, not during. LeBron just got his first helping.

LeBron showed flashes of how great he can be in the Eastern Conference Finals last year, and followed it up with a great season. After coming into the league with more hype than any player in 2 decades, he has backed it up with his first five seasons in the league. All that does is allow him to be considered for elite status. Kobe Bryant just one his first MVP, and part of his finally winning was undoubtedly the fact he has been the best player in the league for the last five years. Not 5 time all-star. Not five seasons with 20/5/5 average. 5 time consensus always the best player on the court, guy you want on your team down by 1 with 3 seconds left.

So how does LeBron prove himself worthy of elite status? Twice in the last week James has missed game winning or game tying layups. Yes, they were contested. They weren’t gimmies, but those are the shots you make to be considered great. Jordan hit those shots. Kobe hits those shots. They missed some, too, but they hit enough when it mattered to make people forget about the misses. James has one thing going for him. Those shots were in the first and second round. If he hits a game winner in the finals those misses disappear. First he has to get back there. So until he gets a few more bruising series and game winners under his belt, don’t act so surprised when it’s not given to you.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I remember exploding out of bed with the sunrise, my head spinning with giddy anticipation of the wonders Santa had brought me during the night. I’d race downstairs and dive into the biggest shiny box in sight. The following hours (or were they minutes) were a confusing collage of flying paper, electric sirens and a never ending array of delectable treats. But somewhere around the time I stopped playing with toys and realized Santa is probably not real, and if he is real he is some sort of master criminal, my excitement for Christmas waned to the point my mom had to wake me up for Christmas brunch (Is it still brunch if it’s after noon?).

While this adolescent shift is necessary I could not ignore the ominous feeling that life was less vibrant without this intense euphoria. The wonderment of the magical world children live in faded into a sober, boring reality. Then, just recently, I realized there is another event that has replaced this blind joy in my life: March Madness.

From Championship week to Final Four weekend my world glimmers with magic, dulling everything not associated with brackets. Santa always brought three or four presents covered in pretty paper. But the NCAA tournament offers 48 games to unwrap in the first weekend! Is it an upset? A buzzer beater!? Ooooh, goody gumdrops I’ve been ever-so patient. Please give me a floater in the lane for a win, followed by baseline three to knock off a 3 seed.

The same Cinderella surprises occur each year, but with new players, teams, and storylines. Every March evokes memories of tournament’s past. Can there be another George Mason this year? How ‘bout a backward over the head pass to a twin in the middle of an upset (Go UAB)? Wichita State (there the Shockers. Come on!), Creighton, The Salukis of Southern Illinois, Pepperdine. I have no proof these schools exist outside of March. Every bracket busted, every Goliath defeated, every hero born fills the atmosphere with a tangible electricity.

And, as if that’s not enough, what happens to land smack in the middle of March madness? St. Patrick’s Day. So in between 4 day marathons of watching games whenever conscious I can celebrate my Irish heritage by making a drunken mockery of it. Candy Canes and green and red M & M’s are replaced by Car Bombs and green beer. This is better than Christmas!

Maybe Santa is real, he’s just changed seasons. What did I get for March Madness this year? A boss on maternity leave. Goodbye productivity, hello webcast (Studies have shown productivity actually decreases in March. That makes me proud to be an American). Let's go Hilltoppers!

Awesome, Thy Name is Bacon

What is your thought process when you wake up in the morning? Mine looks like this:
http://incredimazing.com/page/Bacon_Flowchart: Whoever made this peered into my soul.

Bacon’s awesomeness is self-evident, meaning its mere existence is enough proof it’s awesome. But its true power is unleashed when combined with other good foods. You see, bacon is a true superstar, and as such makes its teammates better, like Michael Jordan. This is better than a good food that doesn’t play well with others, like pop tarts, or Allen Iverson. So I got to thinking, bacon is so good at making other foods better, but has its deliciousness enhancing powers been fully explored? What foods could better utilize bacon for a fuller, more fulfilling eating experience?

Cheese

Bacon and cheese go together better than Arnold and 1 liners:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64aJH2l_doY: I can’t wait for The Governator to come out


Virtually all foods with cheese can, and should, have bacon. Preferably melted, cheese offers a melty yin to bacon's crunchy yang, which helps to center one's Chi. This marriage of smoky goodness and creamy richness is no secret, but these two should be thought of as one entity, cheacon. I have a dream, when one day I can go to the grocery store and buy prepackaged cheacon. I have seen the mountain top, and it is delicious.

Hamburger/Sandwich

For centuries man has known of the impact bacon can have on a sandwich. Yet, I still feel it is being underutilized. I don’t know if a cheeseburger is even worthwhile without bacon, unless maybe it has sauteed mushrooms. It already has cheese, which can always be paired with bacon (see above). Whenever I’m eating a baconless sandwich I say to myself, “Self, what would make this sandwich better?” We all know the answer to that.
Here’s a sandwich recipe that is guaranteed to be delicious: Unstale bread, bacon, cheese, another meat (chicken, turkey, hamburger, more bacon), some sort of sauce. Bam! Flavor town.

http://carefulthought.files.wordpress.com/2007/04/bacon5.jpg: Bacon makes anything better, even bacon

There are literally trillions of comcastic combinations. Here are two that work for all time constraints and income brackets.
Bacon/cheddar/bbq sauce plus chicken breast or hamburger on pumpernickel
Bacon/Swiss (or havarti if you can handle nirvana)/ranch plus chicken breast or hamburger and pepper to taste on sourdough.
Excuse me, I have to go make both of these right now.

Tacos (or any Mexican food)

Those were delicious. Building from the example burgers have given, we see bacon and hamburger meat play well together. This doesn’t need any more explanation. Tortilla + cheese + meat + bacon + whatever the hell else is in Mexican food = best thing on any Mexican menu. I’m surprised the Mexicans dropped the ball on this.

Lasagna (or any Italian food)

For years I have wrestled with a way to incorporate bacon in one of the marvels of culinary science, lasagna. Whether crunchy or chewy, bacon’s texture does not go with lasagna’s consistency. I will continue to experiment, but let’s think about bacon’s use in past dishes in general. Some might say that real Italian food doesn’t use bacon (Neal Allen). This is a bold faced lie. Italians made their own bacon, pancetta. Take a sheet of bacon, throw on some pepper and other spices, then roll it up and slice it. Now you have pancetta. This stuff is great in red and white sauces, on pizza or in panini’s. Of course, if you don’t want to pay extra for a fancy name you can put some pepper on bacon and your back in the old country, a.k.a. flavor country.

Vegetables

Vegetables suck. Children know this instinctively, and must be tricked into eating them through various means of nefarious deception. One such way is using a dipping sauce like ranch, and we’ve already established that bacon and ranch both play for team awesome. Throwing in vegetables just adds health to the equation.

General Tso’s Chicken (or any Chinese food)

Ok, I know it’s getting a little crazy, but stay with me. Imagine some nice crispy bacon pieces in tso sauce. I bet bacon would go well with some Peiking duck. Think of bacon as savor sprinkles: just sprinkle some bacon pieces on any robust meal and you’ve just raised the overall awesomeness by 10%.

Seafood

Seafood is delicious, so it doesn’t need to be overpowered with bacon. However, bacon-wrapped scallops are the best Super Bowl snack according to some (http://www.realclearsports.com/blog/2008/01/rcs_favorites_super_bowl_snack_1.html), goes well in lobster bisque, and I think a little bacon sprinkled over shrimp or in butter sauce for lobster would do the soul good.

Indian Food

“They aren't allowed to use bacon, I think. But we can!” – Andrew MacDonald

There are actually several distinct types of curry, and I gotta believe all of them could use a hot bacon injection. There are a lot of exotic flavors used in Indian food which I know nothing about, but I do know something about the nature of bacon. India should put their nuclear program on hold and get their top minds on the bacon infusion equation. This could end the bloodshed in Kashmir…ok, maybe not, but it won’t make it worse…except Muslims don’t eat pork so it might. Looks like I’ll have to take care of this myself.

Hot Cinnamon Apple Dessert

Bacon has conquered breakfast and lunch and the dinner campaign is going well. Dessert is the final frontier, the undiscovered country. Recently I was introduced to candied bacon, which was quickly followed by singing angels. But bacon alone is not enough, so here is my theoretical bacon dessert: Some sort of apple cobbler type thing with hot apples and cinnamon, broken up graham crackers and pieces of maple bacon. It’s still a work in progress, but think of the possible ramifications. Chocolate, like bacon, makes other things better. If these two culinary powers can be combined the results might cause my head to explode. I am mentally preparing myself now for this edible super-force to avoid any cranium damage.

I feel like I accomplished something here. I talked about bacon enough to raise my cholesterol, I used the word awesome more than anyone since 1991, and I got one step closer to realizing my vision. That step was having a vision. Some day, and that day may never come, bacon will be included in all the afore mentioned foods. I call it Bacon Day, the holiest of all the Judeo-Christian festivals (hypothetically). If that day comes during my life I will rejoice, for all of the work that I may or may not have actually done will not be in vain, and I will know that the forces of bacon triumphed over evil. Knibb High Football rules!