Shook the Spot
April 28, 2006
DUDE, SHE LIKES YOU
From the police blotter in today's Scarsdale Inquirer . . .
A Scarsdale High School senior boy reported April 18 that a fellow student, a girl, had sent him numerous instant messages, called him many times and left him many voice mails over the previous three weeks. He said the attention was unsolicited and he had told her many times to stop contacting him. He said he was annoyed and alarmed by her behavior. Police called her and told her to stop contacting him; she apologized and said she would stop. Police also notified the girl's father of her behavior.
Everbody, now including President Bush, has an opinion on whether the national anthem should be sung in Spanish. Isn't the real question be why we still sing that stupid fucking song, in any language? Well, in any event, the track that isn't rocking the president's iPod . . .
"Nuestro Himno," featuring Wyclef Jean and others who speak Spanish
But much more importantly, the track that should be rocking your iPod right now . . .
"I'm In Luv (Wit a Stripper) Remix," T-Pain featuring Akon, Twista, Pimp C, Paul Wall, R. Kelly, MJG, Too Short. You may not be able to access the track by clicking that link directly, but if you register for free at TJ's DJ's, you can get the hookup by going here. Alternatively, the dope video and lyrics, courtesy of dad, are here.
And yesterday we noted that Little Brown was still pushing Opal Mehta hours after pulling the book from shelves. Today it's replaced by The Girls, a novel by Lori Lansens. How ephemeral Kaavya was . . .
April 27, 2006
ENCOREJust so it's not overlooked amid the pretty pictures in the post below, a kind reminder that you must immediately listen to this clip of the audio book version of Klepto Kaavya's quickly disappearing novel . . .
How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life, internalized by Kaavya Viswanathan
Let's get those mashups rolling . . . Shook likes it over any Gorillaz track . . .
(And, don't worry, if they take it down before you get there, we've got a copy rocking the iTunes already.)
Posted at 6:50 p.m. on the Times website . . .
The publisher Little, Brown and the author Kaavya Viswanathan have agreed to withdraw all editions of her chick-lit novel, "How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild and Got a Life," from the market, the publisher said today in a statement.And as of 7:52 p.m. at the top of littlebrown.com . . .
"Little, Brown today sent a notice to retail and wholesale accounts asking them to stop selling copies of the book and to return unsold inventory to the publisher for full credit," said Michael Pietsch, senior vice president and publisher of Little, Brown.
Extending Your Reading Experience . . . repeatedly
Quick, listen to this plagiarized crap before they yank it from the site . . .
Clip of audio book, How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life
April 24, 2006
THIS IS A STUB
Okay, new project . . . We're gonna wiki a Journal story on the recent spate of ethics allegations against Harvard students and young graduates. Three's a trend . . . Eugene M. Plotkin '00, Nick Sylvester '04, Kaavya Viswanathan '08. Could be expanded maybe to the Ivy League if there are other examples. Anyway, Richard Bradley thinks it's about "achievement without a soul." That seems too simple. Thoughts?
"WE LEAD THE WORLD IN COMPUTERIZED DATA PROCESSING" . . . THE SOPRANOS — SEASON 6, EPISODE 7 . . . "LUXURY LOUNGE" . . . ARTIE SHOOTS, SERVES A RABBIT . . . CHRISSY JACKS LAUREN BACALL . . . RUSTY TAKES TWO TO THE HEAD
The first words of last night's episode strike an ominous chord, albeit in subtitled Italian. "This is where the Twin Towers were," says one hitman to the other, plotting a little post-double murder tourism. The line comes immediately after the "Previously on . . . " montage, which reminds us that Tony is worried two Arabs in his crew might be "al Qaedas or something" (and reprises Chrissy's great line, "I don't think so. Mohammed and his girlfriend have a dog.") It's odd that the subplot even gets a mention in the montage, since there are no developments on that front in the episode. The Arabs make only two fleeting appearances when Tony pats them on the back at Bada Bing and, later, when they purchase some computer chip or something . . . anyone catch what was going on there? But obviously something will soon go down with the two of them, though it's more likely they'll be blown up than blow something up themselves. Anyone care to speculate?
The real plot set-up last night, though, had to be the takedown of Rusty in his black Mercedes as he backed out of the driveway of his extremely tacky (Staten Island?) home. Who thinks that hit is likely to figure into whatever grand conclusion David Chase has in store for the show? Shook does. We've got a heroin addict in charge of making sure the weapons, which the Italians drop at the crime scene, can't be traced back to anyone. "The fishes have been cleaned," he assures them, but we all know the fishes always come back to haunt the boss. And Phil seems miffed when Tony refuses to accept his thanks for a job well done. With Johnny Sack unlikely to emerge from his prison cell again before the series finale, isn't Phil the guy that Tony should be concerned with pleasing, if mollifying the New York crew is really his aim? (For a good while last season, a NY/NJ war seemed afoot, but Johnny's arrest put the kabash on that. Shook thinks it brewing again.) And furthermore, a fuckload of people appear to know the details behind the Rusty hit, including Benny, whom you can't even trust with a few credit card numbers. (Although, on that note, isn't it time Artie hung up the apron? Last night's subplot was only slightly less annoying than Artie's tableside manner.)
And before we go, what is there to say about Ben Kingsley and Lauren Bacall? It was about time someone gave Bacall that punch in the face she's always been asking for. And it's a good thing Kingsley turned down the role of the boss in Chrissy's flick. He just wasn't right for it . . .
Finally, Shook got kinda angry when the early episodes of this season fixated on that dreadful Ojibwe saying on the wall of Tony's hospital room . . . "Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while, a great wind carries me across the sky." The line has been kicking around since then, though, with Tony whipping it out at several choice moments. So let's a get a running list of people whom Tony has accused, "frankly," of going about in pity for themselves . . .
Janice ("Frankly, Janice, I think you go about in pity for yourself.")We missing anyone?
Homosexuals (To Dr. Melfi: "I think they go about in pity for themselves.")
Artie ("Frankly, I think you go about in pity for yourself.")
April 21, 2006
THE WAR ON SCIENCEROXBURY, Connecticut — Props to the hustlers out in Oroville, California, who transformed the town's giant hillside "O" into a far less lame "420" in honor of yesterday's holiday. But shame on the fascists down at the Food and Drug Administration, who tempered yesterday's buzz by declaring that medical marijuana "has no currently accepted or proven medical use in the United States and is not an approved medical treatment." (Additional shame on the media covering the FDA's announcement for failing to mention the peculiar timing.) And the shamest of shame on the Drug Enforcement Agency for raiding an alleged medical marijuana store in Sacramento on Wednesday. The feds seized 22 pounds of herb from a store called Awakenings: Books, Stones and More. (Props on the name.) California Senate Bill . . . wait for it . . . 420 protects the right of Awakenings and other proprietors of tonic tea to deal that shit in peace. State rights, yo. This aggression will not stand . . .
Look, weed should be legal. But while the nation slowly comes to its senses on that issue, it's important we not lose ground on the medicinal front. No matter what the FDA and Rep. Mark Souder say, there's clear scientific evidence that supports the use of marijuana in treating a host of serious illnesses. A 1999 report by the Institute of Medicine, a division of the National Academy of Sciences, offered the most conclusive findings to date on the issue. "In contrast with the many disagreements bearing on social issues," the report noted, "the study team found substantial consensus among experts in the relevant disciplines on the scientific evidence about potential medical uses of marijuana." That consensus, in a nutshell . . . weed is good for you.
One interesting finding in the report was the effect of cannibinoids, as ganja is known in the lab, on the human immune system. Shook, who happens to have an autoimmune disorder, read that section with particular interest . . . although it took some effort and a little weed to comprehend the scientific jargon. Bottom line is that while researchers still aren't sure how it happens, cannibinoids have been shown to suppress immune cell functions. (That may sound bad, but it's actually a very good thing. With Crohn's Disease and the like, the immune system attacks itself, and the best treatment is, paradoxically, to tune it down.) But here's the best part for those of us with Crohn's . . . "In addition, several studies have shown directly that cannabinoids can be antiinflammatory." Uhuh.
Now, Shook is just a recreational user, and in any event, very healthy at the moment. But some anecdotal evidence from periods when Shook hasn't been so well suggests that the Institute of Medicine study is on target. Of course, it's impossible for me to tell whether THC has helped fight inflammation. (Several other prescription drugs could have been doing the trick.) But Shook is certain of at least two effects of marijuana that have been enormously helpful while dealing with Crohn's . . . and, seriously, Shook is not bullshitting here. For one, weed is a pain killer (or, as the report put it, "Cannabinoids likely have a natural role in pain modulation.) When it's difficult to function and eat because of inflammation, weed can alleviate the problem pretty fucking quick. (Doctors say, breathe deeply. That kind of works, too, but not really.) And second, marijuana causes the munchies (or, as the report put it, "appetite stimulation.") That's pretty self-explanatory, but it's really unbelievably important. Sophomore year, Shook just wouldn't be up for dinner in LowDiHa, but after a few late-night hits in N11 or M41, a Felipe's run was suddenly in the cards. Nowadays, Shook just calls that getting high, but back then it could also fairly be called medicine.
Of course, the best results for medical marijuana usage have been associated with more serious ailments like AIDS and cancer. And that's really where it's best used. But it's important to recognize that the positive effects of weed are far-reaching, from the treatment of depression to the care of terminal illnesses. And efforts to discount the solid scientific evidence that supports medical marijuana, like the FDA's statement yesterday, are purely political and Puritan potshots.
ADDENDUM . . . Times science writer Gardiner Harris speaks truth to power in a video analysis of the FDA's policy announcement . . . "The policy document, basically, is wrong." And he includes a nice stab at the War on Drugs . . . "There's not very much evidence that suggests that marijuana is this gateway drug that DEA thinks it is."
April 20, 2006
4/20
Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I'm a Catholic.
—Allen Ginsberg, "America."
4/20
Presently Victor's tall brother came ambling along with some weed piled on a page of newspaper. He dumped it on Victor's lap and leaned casually on the door of the car to nod and smile at us and say, "Hallo." Dean nodded and smiled pleasantly at him. Nobody talked; it was fine. Victor proceeded to roll the biggest bomber anybody ever saw. He rolled (using brown bag paper) what amounted to a tremendous Corona cigar of tea. It was huge. Dean stared at it, popeyed. Victor casually lit it and passed it around. To drag on this thing was like leaning over a chimney and inhaling. It blew into your throat in one great blast of heat. We held our breaths and all let out just about simultaneously. Instantly we were all high. The sweat froze on our foreheads and it was suddenly like the beach at Acapulco. I looked out the back window of the car, and another and the strangest of Victor's brothers—a tall Peruvian of an Indian with a sash over his shoulder—leaned grinning on a post, too bashful to come up and shake hands. It seemed the car was surrounded by brothers, for another one appeared on Dean's side. Then the strangest thing happened. Everybody became so high that the usual formalities were dispensed with and the things of immediate interest were concentrated on, and now it was the strangeness of Americans and Mexicans blasting together on the desert and, more than that, the strangeness of seeing in close proximity the faces and pores of skins and calluses of fingers and general abashed cheekbones of another world. So the Indian brothers began talking about us in low voices and commenting; you saw them look, and size, and compare mutualities of impression, or correct and modify, "Yeh, yeh" while Dean and Stan and I commented on them in English.
—Jack Kerouac, On the Road. Part 4, Chapter 5, pgs. 282-283.
4/20
Now I have one radio-phonograph; I plan to have five. There is a certain acoustical deadness in my hole, and when I have music I want to feel its vibration, not only with my ear but with my whole body. I'd like to hear five recordings of Louis Armstrong playing and singing "What Did I Do to Be so Black and Blue"—all at the same time. Sometimes now I listen to Louis while I have my favorite dessert of vanilla ice cream and sloe gin. I pour the red liquid over the white mound, watching it glisten and the vapor rising as Louis bends that military instrument into a beam of lyrical sound. Perhaps I like Louis Armstrong because he's made poetry out of being invisible. I think it must be because he's unaware that he is invisible. And my own grasp of invisibility aids me to understand his music. Once when I asked for a cigarette, some jokers gave me a reefer, which I lighted when I got home and sat listening to my phonograph. It was a strange evening. Invisibility, let me explain, gives one a slightly different sense of time, you're never quite on the beat. Sometimes you're ahead and sometimes behind. Instead of the swift and imperceptible flowing of time, you are aware of its nodes, those points where time stands still or from which it leaps ahead. That's what you hear vaguely in Louis' music.
—Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man. "Prologue," pgs. 7-8.
April 19, 2006
Five of the 47 players on the Duke men's lacrosse team, currently under investigation for a gang rape alleged to have occurred at a team party, hail from the same tiny Catholic school in Morristown, New Jersey. The Delbarton School, known for its prowess in athletics and not so much in academics, charges $22,500 a year for tuition (among the highest figures for private schools outside of New York City), and the student body is accordingly white, rich, and obnoxious. (Just guessing on the last bit.) Also, in this case, they're Catholic.
Yesterday the Durhman police arrested one of the Delbarton grads, Reade Seligmann, on charges of forcible rape, sexual offense, and kidnapping. (Collin Finnerty . . . Tony Soprano, anyone? . . . was similarly charged. He grew up in Garden City, the tony Long Island suburb, as did three of his teammates. These guys all get churned out of the same factory.) Anyway, you might imagine Delbarton would want to distance itself from Seligmann, since he has been indicted by a grand jury for rape and everything. But within hours of the arrest, Delbarton's headmaster, Rev. Luke L. Travers, posted this statement on the school's website . . .
Knowing Reade Seligmann as well as we do here at Delbarton, I believe him innocent of the charges included in the indictment issued yesterday in North Carolina. The hearts and prayers of our school community go out to Reade and his family, the woman who has made the accusations, the players on the Duke Lacrosse team and their families. It is our hope and our conviction that the full truth of all that happened that night will vindicate Reade of these charges.Who knew your Delbarton tuition includes a vigorous public defense from the headmaster if you're ever charged with rape after graduation? Principal Klemme would probably not be so kind. But shall we parse this statement? Knowing Reade Seligmann as well as we do here at Delbarton . . . Knowing, of course, in the biblical sense. As in, Bible studies class. What?
Delbarton, unfortunately, has suffered its fair share . . . okay, a fuckload more than its fair share . . . of sexual abuse charges against school administrators and teachers in recent years. In 2002, the school's former headmaster was accused (and then cleared) of molesting a child more than 20 years ago. In 2005, a priest at the school pleaded guilty to molesting a 15-year-old student in 1986. That same year, another priest and a deacon were disciplined by the religious order that runs the school for similar accusations of molestation. Jesus. Maybe Seligmann could use the "I went to school where all the teachers molest their students" defense. Shook, for one, would buy it.
From today's Daily Record of Morristown, perhaps a clue . . .
It was nearly two years ago when the Delbarton [lacrosse] players threw their sticks in the air and piled on top of each other in wild celebration after a 7-6 overtime victory over Mountain Lakes to win the school's fifth state title in a game at Rutgers University.He scored twice? That's one better than when he raped a stripper last month . . .
"It can't get any better," said Seligmann, who scored twice in that game. "It's the best feeling I've had my entire life and I'm sure it's the same for all my teammates."
April 18, 2006
Bob Saget told students at Northwestern on Friday, "I was on Full House. That is so fucked up. I know — I lived it." You know what's fucked up, Bob? Ragging on the best years of your career. Learn to love that shit . . . 'cause standup gigs in Evanston, Illinois certainly aren't paying the bills, are they? Even if you just had a dime for every Full House rerun on TBS, you'd still be out-grossing The Aristocrats. So just shove it. (Props, however, to the industrious audience members who threw "tampons scrawled with phone numbers at the comedian." One can only hope that Shook's favorite reader was among them . . . )
April 17, 2006
KATIE HOLMES TO TOM CRUISE ON HIS BLACKBERRY!!!!!:::: "NO BABY ACTION YET"!!!!!!!
(also, two things . . . when diane sawyer says, "what does she do that drives you crazy?" doesn't cruise totally misinterpret that and get all defensive like he can't stand her? . . . and at the news that katie's not pregnant, what the fuck does, "so nothing yet, so we're good," mean? jesus, tom, holy fucking christ . . . )
THE SOPRANOS — SEASON 6, EPISODE 6 . . . "LIVE FREE OR DIE" . . . AT THE HALFWAY POINT, VITTO IS STILL REALLY GAY . . . "TRYING TO WORK A CELL PHONE MENU IS ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU SCREAM"
"I agree with that Senator Sanatorium," Tony explains to Dr. Melfi tonight. "He says that if we let guys marry guys, pretty soon we're gonna be fucking dogs." It's just one of many reminders in the episode that while Jersey may be a blue state, the mob remains solidly red. We learn Carmella voted for Bush, and it's a far more revolting thought that any murder the boys have carried out. Tonight's writing was clearly the best of the season thus far, one of those Sopranos scripts jammed with more great lines in an hour of television than you previously thought possible. It's kind of impossible to pick a favorite, but this one probably takes it . . .
VIN: This is good shit.Word. But back to the conservative trope running through the episode . . . As Vito runs off to New Hampshire . . . did anyone catch the name of the town? . . . his fate is bandied about back at home. Tony admits to a smidgen of sympathy . . . "What? It's 2006. There's pillow biters in the Special Forces." And acknowledges . . . "That lesbian thing, with the Jennifer Beals, it wasn't bad." But the boys are having a field day . . .
MEADOW: Yeah, it is.
BOBBY: It could be a midlife thing.Appearing to side with Vito, which in this case means not promptly taking him out, Tony risks a deepening fissure with his men, who continue to challenge him in public. Last week, MommaVoz first raised the possibility that "T may have to retire." And though swvl couldn't see it happening, tonight's episode continued to question Skip's ability to lead the family. Even his own therapist thinks he took in the ass while in the can . . by the way, did we know Tony had been to jail? "Just for the record, my incarceration was very short term," he assures Melfi. "So there was none of the anal." Still, Tony doesn't hesistate to remind his captains, "Let's not pretend he's the first." Really, under the peverse Catholic psuedo-principles that guide the Jersey mob, the difference between Vito and his now ex-colleagues is a crucial distinction laid out in the back room of Satriales . . ."catching, not pitching."
CHRISSY: Sucking a cock?
To Vito, Shook only hopes he'll settle down in New Hampshire . . . a true red state, no less . . . instead of killing himself. In any event, Joe Gannascoli's performance was pretty fucking solid. Maybe it'll even boost his career, which kind of hit the bottom of the tank last year with his role in the weight-loss reality show, Celebrity Fit Club. (He lost 32 pounds . . . "Think about it, Ton, the sudden weight loss." . . . "AIDS?" . . . "Nobody's got AIDS!" . . . )
AND IN THE FWAVLOSPHERE . . .
Shook warmly welcomes an exciting addition to the burgeoning blogging bazaar. Yo It's . . . has perked his ears and picked up a digital pen at the already sizzling Overheard at Harvard. In honor of this fifth addition to the fwavlosphere, Shook presents a new RSS feed of all the latest from fellow-ette, im.bitch, MommaVoz, Yo It's . . . , and yours truly. (There are still some kinks . . . MommaVoz' feed isn't working for some reason.) You will always be able to hit up the fwavlosphere at the bottom of this page, but here it is . . . UPDATE . . . Change of plans . . . the new overhanging tab . . . paperclip? Post-It Note? . . . will house the fwavl feed, as it were. (Putting that shit together was a fucking nightmare, but possibly worth it.) Also, in Shook's haste and high last night, fellow-ette was not included in the blogroll. This was an oversight of the tallest order, and Shook can only beg for forgiveness . . . Sorry, mom!
April 13, 2006
From my perch here two stories above the street, Shook is currently viewing large bolts of lightning flash in the night sky over Scarsdale every three seconds or so. But it's hard to tell whether the lightning, which looks pretty fucking realistic, is actually out there or whether Shook is just seeing, if you will, the effects of that heftty hit taken just a moment ago. In any event, the drought has been quenched. (If He had given us B'Lovin and not done any of that other shit, Dayenu!) When Shook drew up his budget for bouncing to Beantown and presented the figures to the 'rents, one essential expenditure was missing, of course. But, oh, it's there . . . hidden better than an Arthur Anderson audit, a built-in cost of living. And certainly hidden better than those two Goldman guys busted yesterday for insider trading. (Reading SEC press releases is Shook's life nowadays.) Get a load of this bit of the complaint filed against the duo . . .
Plotkin and Pajcin also contemplated various schemes involving exotic dancers, including having them garner information from bankers while dancing, and using them to induce investment bankers to provide Plotkin and Pajcin with information.What kind of fucking morons . . . ? Anyway, tonight's seder at the home of Yo It's . . . was pretty fucking solid. Closets were off limits both for the afikomen and the dinnertime conversation. Shook is headed over the bridge tomorrow for the weekend. Keep it real . . .
PASSAGES IN TODAY'S THURSDAY STYLES
It is, isn't it . . .
Practically everyone and everything now has a nickname, it seems, whether they like it or not. Starbucks is Fourbucks, Anderson Cooper is the Coop, and Mandisa, the big-voiced contestant voted off "American Idol" last week, is Mandiva. That President Bush has a penchant for nicknames has only made them more prevalent. It is an abbreviated world.But the medium is the message . . .
The desire to be taller, amazonian, seems to fit with a society that likes things pumped up — lips and S.U.V.'s, for example — but that is only a conjecture. A lot of women, in truth, don't need a McLuhan-like explanation of why they want the new shoes.Keep in mind that she actually has a stepchild . . .
There are pros and cons to having stepchildren. One of the cons is that you get to relive all the terrifying insecurities of high school over and over and over again. It's one thing if your own progeny think you're uncool: you're the parent; you're supposed to be uncool. But we stepparents have only our status as potentially cool people to warm us at night.
A fair description . . .
Simon is short and stubbled with close-cropped gray hair. His biceps were ringed with skull tattoos and his eyes ringed with traces of mascara. He was wearing a ragged Sex Pistols T-shirt from at least 30 years ago.And a bonus passage, from the relatively tame Metro section today . . .
But perhaps the most ardent and surprising opponent of the [pornographic video] shop [in Nyack, New York] has been the actor Stephen Baldwin, a resident of nearby Grand View. Mr. Baldwin, who has starred in racy R-rated films but became a born-again Christian after 9/11, stood outside the future shop last January and took photographs of some of its workers. He has vowed to stand outside the shop every day and take pictures of its patrons as well, so he can identify them and publish their names in local newspaper advertisements.
NYACK!!!Mr. Baldwin acknowledged that the business had a right to operate, but said the location was unacceptable because it sits at the center of a main thoroughfare, with bus stops along the street, a hospital around the corner, and a middle school within walking distance.
"If the only defense I have is to photograph the patrons, then that's what I have to do," Mr. Baldwin said at a recent Village Hall meeting. "I want to do what I need to do to protect my family and the citizens of Nyack."
Toward the end of frigid February, as hell froze over, Shook exchanged three Jacksons for a light eighth of B'Love Special (a.k.a. Ethical Culture Fieldston School tetrahydrocannabinol). This will maybe get me to the beginning of March, Shook thought. It did, and then some. By the power of god, stems, and disciplined rationing, that blessed baggie of weed lasted not one week, but eight crazy weeks! Apropos for this holiday season. Sure, it's the wrong holiday, but fuck Passover. Indeed, it might surprise you to learn that Shook has never really been a fan of the Pesach holiday, despite my middle name . . . yes, we have a Moses Family Seder, but the novelty wore off around 5759. It's just that the whole exodus business strikes me as an extraordinarily tired story, considering how 1) our country has dealt with far more recent and more relevant slavery; and 2) our people have been through far worse than Pharoah. (Speaking of that dude, Harvard Hillel is hosting "Pharoah on Trial" this Monday, and Alan Dershowitz is the defense attorney. Who's the anti-Semite now? Innocent until proven guilty, though, of course . . . )So, anyway, Shook wasn't exactly looking forward to last night's seder in Teaneck, New Jersey, but that shit proved far more entertaining than expected. Highlight of the evening . . . Cousin Louis, whom Shook thought everybody knew was gay, came out of the fucking closet in the middle of the fucking seder!!! It was pretty amazing . . . Uncle Sam, who was really awkwardly pushing his two books (self-published, it should be noted) on spiritual healing during the gefilte-fish hour, led the seder as usual. And in one customary digression, he started going on about "spiritual slavery" and how Passover is about liberating your emotions and not letting shit build up inside you. Shook reached for a bottle of wine at that point, eschewing the blessing. Sam keeps talking long enough to lose the attention of everyone at the table, including his mother Annie, who watches the Home Shopping Network and plays Scrabble (by herself!) all day back in Florida. But, apparently, Louis was listening, because when Sam opened the floor for others to share their thoughts on "our perennial exodus from negativity," ole cousin Lou was the first to pipe up . . . "I just want to say that I've been dealing with a certain kind of slavery all my life. The slavery of not letting people know who I really am." Juicy dramatic pause. "I'm gay." Just like that. Over at the kids' table (more the relatively kids' table; Shook was the second-youngest there and had to read the Four Questions in fucking Hebrew), the revelation didn't cause much of a stir. But the older crowd, especially Annie and Esther, looked like they'd just turned on the CBS Evening News and found Katie Couric in the anchor chair. Oy gevalt.
The seder concluded without further drama, and Shook managed to get back home just in time for the 10:30 premiere of Centerstage: Jay-Z . . . Yeah, that would be Yankee broadcaster Michael Kay talking to the King of Hip-Hop on Kay's extraordinarily low-budget yet somehow endearing YES Network interview show. (On the drive home, as Shook flipped through the radio dial while crossing over the George Washington Bridge . . . Z100, Hot97, and Power105 were all simultaneously playing Sean Paul's new single, "Temperature." Sick. Like in a good way.) In any event, Jay-Z didn't say anything worth repeating here, but Shook enjoyed the show while packing with the violin with the last, the very last flakes from the bottom of that magic baggie. Time to reup . . .
April 09, 2006
THE SOPRANOS — SEASON 6, ESPISODE 5 . . . "MR. & MRS. JOHN SACRIMONI REQUEST . . . "
"Even Cinderella didn't cry," Phil Leotardo tells the boys at Allegra "What the Fuck Does That Have to Do With Cold Medication?" Sacrimoni's wedding. Of course, that's not even remotely true, but the point is clear. And despite Tony's sympathy for sensitive mob bosses, Johnny Sack is written off as a tearful weakling. Still, that's nothing compared to the shit Vito and his . . . a . . . ma . . . zing . . . police getup are in for, if he's still alive. Somewhere in Cambridge tonight, Harvey "Manliness" Mansfield was having a field day.
But how the fuck did that tacky-ass wedding cost $450,000? Did they serve diamonds for dessert? Or perhaps Johnny was including the cost of his security detail. In any event, total ripoff. Should have had AJ plan that shit.
April 06, 2006
April 05, 2006
From Katie Couric's big announcement this morning on Today . . .
[MATT] LAUER: Hail Hail! The gang's all here.
ANN CURRY: Oh Katie. You know, it feels like my sister is going off to college.
[KATIE] COURIC: Well, I'll come home for the holidays!
CURRY: I want to make sure you've got your toothbrush, your bags packed. Oh, but I'm so excited for you.
COURIC: Thanks Ann — I woke Ann up last night to talk to her.
CURRY: You did, at 10:30, that's why I'm a little groggy. I couldn't get back to sleep . . . !
COURIC: I'm sorry!
[ . . . ]
CURRY: Will you still give us hair advice? And a...
LAUER: And grief about our hair! (laughter)
COURIC: Yeah sure I'll call with that! Anyway — Speaking of hair. My mom is so funny — she called me yesterday and said "You're on the front page of the Washington Post" . . . get a hair cut!" (laughter)
AL [ROKER]: All right mom!
COURIC: You see where I get it from, right?
LAUER: Well in May, boy we're going to have so much fun in May. We're going to live through a lot of great memories . . .
COURIC: PARTY!
LAUER: We're going to through [throw] one huge party, too
LAUER: Anyway — Well done. Well done. (Matt puts hand on Katie's knee)
COURIC: Get your hand off my knee (laughter)
AL: Can't wait to see Bob Scheiffer do that! (laughter)
SMOKE . . . WATER . . . DEBRIS . . . SWASTIKAS . . . FECES . . . WELCOME TO SCARSDALE HIGH
Dear Parents,
As you have probably heard from your child, there was a fire in the first-floor stairwell of the new wing at approximately 8:15 this morning. The fire department arrived quickly on the scene as students evacuated the building, and extinguished the fire after several minutes. Unfortunately, many students and staff members were left out in the chilly and damp weather during the evacuation for an extended period of time while the fire department members performed their duties. The new wing was closed for much of the day due to smoke, water, and debris. There were no injuries or damage to students or their property. Members of the counseling department monitored the entrances to the wing on the first, second, and third floors to safeguard student belongings, and students were permitted into the wing at 2:00 under faculty supervision to reclaim their things.
Most distressing, however, is that this appears by all accounts to have been a case of arson. We believe that other materials were used to ignite several desks that were stored underneath the stairwell, and the fire and police departments as well as school officials are proceeding with an investigation. I received permission from the fire department to gather all students in the gymnasium at the other end of the building for an impromptu assembly on what had happened. I also shared with the student body and the staff that I received notice yesterday that two of our boys restrooms on the second floor and one on the main floor had been defaced, one with human feces. In addition, we have observed several recent acts of anti-Semitic vandalism in the form of swastikas that have been quickly removed in a few places around the building.
I declared before the group that no matter how lofty the reputation of Scarsdale High School, despite our fine test scores and record of college admissions, these acts of vandalism surely indicate that the acts of an individual or a small group of individuals threaten all of us and say so much about how our school community can be affected by a very small minority of students. Couple these incidents with the recent bomb threat, I remarked, and it is clear that we are experiencing a series of events that undermine not only our physical safety, but also the instructional time to which students are entitled. I also asked for anyone with knowledge of today's incident to contact me confidentially with information about the incident. This request has produced several leads that we are in the process of pursuing.
I subsequently met with the Superintendent of Schools, the two assistant superintendents, as well as the Principal's Cabinet, and we have identified several incremental steps in response that I will share with students at 8:05 tomorrow morning by the public address system as well as at grade-level assemblies on Thursday. Part of the responsibility for taking back our school must rest with its most important resource, our students. Today's event signals an escalation in acts of vandalism that no institution can long sustain.
We will respond decisively, we will prosecute forcefully, and we will assure the physical safety and educational integrity of Scarsdale High School. Following my remarks with students tomorrow morning after an early-morning faculty meeting, I will be writing you again tomorrow to relate those steps in detail.
In the interim, please feel free to discuss this matter with your child at home. Many students were justifiably dismayed to see a fire in their building and need our reassurance. I will do all in my power to bring these incidents under control and the perpetrators to accountability.
As always, I invite your comments.
Sincerely,
John Klemme
[Principal, Scarsdale High School]
April 04, 2006
The tantalizing new teaser for NYTimes.com's forthcoming My Times feature promises "the best minds in journalism" . . .
David Pogue, Nicholas Kristof, Adam Nagourney . . . Is that Pinch Sulzberger?
Uhuh.
April 02, 2006
THE ORIGINAL G . . . THE SOPRANOS — SEASON 6, EPISODE 4 . . . "THE FLESHY PART OF THE THIGH" . . . PAULIE LOSES TWO MOTHERS . . . BOBBY LAUNCHES A RAP CAREER . . . TONY EVOLVES
Shook was coming down off a high . . . natural and otherwise . . . when tonight's episode began, so perhaps that dampened my enjoyment on the couch. But at first muster, Shook is inclined to agree with Yo It's . . . , who deemed this latest installment "a great dish that comes out of the kitchen lukewarm." What was that Ojibwe saying again? Or more importantly, who gives a fuck? Briefly . . . that pity hating bullshit is apparently called the "Song of the Bird," and we had a bit of a bird motif with a page of prehistoric aviators in the dinosaur book cutting to a flock of birds scattering over some power lines. But if that line . . . "Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while, a great wind carries me across the sky" . . . gets any more play this season, Shook is gonna pop a cap in David Chase's ass.
Speaking of which, fellow-ette thinks Toni Morrison "might have a lot to say" about the gangster-gangsta alliance on the hospital floor. Perhaps, but this subplot, while amusing, just felt too easy to throw away. (Ditto the philosopher next door . . . ) And is it just me, or is the ass totally the wrong place to get shot if you want to boost your rap career? Try taking one in the gut like a real mob boss . . .
THE SOPRANOS — SEASON 6, EPISODE 4 . . . "THE FLESHY PART OF THE THIGH"
Get the insta-reaction to tonight's episode rolling in the comments . . .
Shook loves a good exploitatative reality show as much as the next guy, but like sausage yo . . . a t-bone steak, cheese, eggs, and Welch's grape . . . So it was more than a little disturbing to read a memo dug up by The Smoking Gun in which an ABC producer discusses possible cast members for her show . . .
As we begin to cast a new season for "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," we also begin to look for stories of families who are trying to overcome adversity, but just need a little help (Especially with their home!).It's like the '80s again. Somebody get this shit in a novel quiiiiick.
We are open to any and ALL story ideas and are especially looking for the following:
— Extraordinary Mom/Dad recently diagnosed with ALS
— Family who has a child w/ PROGERIA (aka "little old man disease")
— Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, referred to as CIPA by the few people who know about it. (There are 17 known cases in US -let me know if one is in your town!) This is where kids cannot feel any physical pain.)
— Muscular Distrophy Child — Amazing kid who is changing people's views about MD
— MADD / Drunk Driving — Family turns tragedy into triumph after losing a child drunk driving
— Family who has multiple children w/ Downs Syndrome (either adopted or biological)
— Amazing/loved Mom or Dad w/ melanoma / skin cancer
— Home Invasion — family robbed, house messed up (vandalized) — kids fear safety in their home now.
— Victims of hate crime in own home. Family's house victim of arson or severely vandalized.Please feel free to email me or call Charisse with any questions or story ideas!
Charisse Simonian
Producer / Family Casting Director
ABC's "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition"
w. (323) 785-2280
f. (323) 785-2426
e. extremehomes@hotmail.com
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