Excuse Me, Is That Your Blog?

This little piggy stayed home

2009-04-29T11:32:00.011-04:00

As this blog's resident public health expert, it is only fitting that I address the current frenzy over the swine flu. Reactions have run the gamut from incredulous skepticism that this is actually a cause for concern to fanatical hysteria that the end is nigh. As it usually is, the truth is somewhere in between. Here's the bottom line: act carefully, but not crazily.

Seasonal influenza kills 36,000 people a year in America, most of whom are elderly or people with weak immune systems. The fact that this strain of flu affects younger and healthier people, and that cases contracted in Mexico have proven to be fatal, are enough of a reason to be vigilant. It is also true that a genuine pandemic could have a dramatic effect on the economy at a time when it is already in dire straits. Potentially, a third of the workforce would be incapacitated. Therefore, swine flu is definitely more than a random health fluke that does not warrant attention - it can be a very serious issue with widespread ramifications.

However, there is no need for the media-induced panic that has arisen among many people regarding the emergence of this illness. First and foremost, the CDC is working diligently to address the swine flu oubreak, from testing passengers arriving from Mexico to the research and development of a vaccine. And while I recognize that many people do not have faith in the government to respond effectively to an emergency, I urge you to keep in mind that the CDC is not FEMA. These are competent, scientific professionals who have been studying influenza for decades and assisting the federal, state, and local governments in pandemic preparednes. There has been significant national funding for pandemic planning ever since the avian flu scare of 2003. Through the Strategic National Stockpile program, we have supplies stored in secret locations throughout the country that will be available within 48 hours if activiated. We are more ready than we ever have been to contain and mitigate pandemic influenza. Secondly, thus far only the cases contracted in Mexico have proven to be fatal. While the experts are still trying to determine exactly why the virus appears to be more serious in Mexico versus other countries, the fact remains that Americans who have been affected by the illness have recovered or in the process of recovering. Moreover, this strain of flu present in the American cases has demonstrated succeptibility to antiviral medication. Finally, it is relatively easy to protect yourself from swine fu. If you follow these simple rules suggested by the CDC, you will significantly reduce the likelihood of transmission. It basically comes down to washing your hands for 30 seconds (the length of the Happy Birthday song for a frame of reference) on a regular basis, coughing or sneezing into a tissue or your sleeve, using common sense in avoiding large social gatherings if you think you are sick, and not making out with and dry-humping people you suspect may have the illness.

In a nutshell: YOU WILL NOT GET SWINE FLU IF YOU USE YOUR HEAD, AND EVEN IF YOU DO YOU WILL GET A PRESCRIPTION FOR TAMIFLU FROM A DOCTOR AND YOU WILL PROBABLY BE OKAY.

It is imperative that people understand this message, and they they get their messages from a reliable source. I recommend sticking with the CDC's information through its swine flu website or Twitter feed, or by subcribing to its Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR), where I got most of the information provided in this post (note: it will also alert you of random public health events and phenomena such as National Folic Acid Awareness Day and the prevalance of injuries related to people tripping over cats and dogs). Steer clear of Wolf Blitzer and other fearmongers in the media. Remember, they profit off of scaring you! I've heard all kinds of rumors over the past week, including the myth that humans can catch swine flu from eating pork. Frankly I don't know why you'd want to eat Babe in the first place, but recognizing that many people have different dietary preferences than me, it should be emphasized that THERE IS NO LINK BETWEEN EATING PORK AND CONTRACTING SWINE FLU. This is what happens when people listen to morning radio and watch Fox News. Have a little bit of faith that the experts at CDC know what they are doing and have your best interest in mind - otherwise why would they be working for a big government bureacracy on limited salaries?

If you are a worry wart, and I admit that I am, just take some simple precautions like stocking up on bottled water and non-perishable food and purchasing N-95 respirators from your local hardware store. I have developed my own "social distancing" plan that involves working from home as often as possible and coming in late when I work at the office to avoid peak Metro crowds. This strategy coincides nicely with my normal life in which I am lazy and despise mornings. If it really makes you feel better, go ahead and plan for a big pandemic.

Regardless of your fear level, you should be following the basic CDC guidelines for protection. But in no case should you panic. Frankly, stress weakens your immune system and makes you even more vulnerable. Act carefully, not crazilly.

Care for some tea?

2009-04-15T20:15:00.003-04:00

It would be inexcusable for the writers of Excuse Me, Is That Your Blog to ignore an event taking place in our beloved DC that includes two of our favorite things: hating on the government and penis references. Of course I am talking about the infamous “teabagging” rally at the White House today, in which hundreds of disgruntled taxpayers tried to recreate the Boston Tea Party, minus Sam Adams, Native American costumes, and a worthwhile cause.

The demonstration went off about as smoothly as one can expect any teabagging to be executed. Protestors planned to dump tea into the Potomac River and Lafayette Square, only to learn that such shenanigans are in fact illegal. (Frankly, I think the filthy Potomac could benefit from the antioxidant quality of tea, but I guess overly caffeinated fish would be somewhat frightening.) Teabaggers were also supposed to gather in front of the Treasury Building (Hey Tim. Tax day must be rough for you. Call me!) to listen to the inspiring words of delusional presidential candidate and Borat victim, Alan Keyes. However they didn’t foresee that disrupting traffic in the middle of a work day in the nation’s capital might require a permit, and failed to obtain one.

Despite the logistical setbacks, and the miserable weather, the teabaggers soldiered on and held a rally in front of the White House. Unfortunately the protesters couldn’t even get this part right, because one overly zealous malcontent threw a box of tea onto the White House lawn. This of course prompted the Secret Service, concerned that first dog Bo would get into the stash and leave them a runny mess to clean, to disperse the crowd. The utter failure of the occasion did not dampen the protestors’ spirits. Humorously, Rebecca Wales, local organizer of the teabaggers claimed, "This is the largest grass-roots demonstration in history.” Oh honey, you don’t get out much, do you?

Aside from the fact that teabaggers poorly planned and managed their premiere event, their very purpose is questionable at best. Ostensibly, the protestors are decrying irresponsible government spending and taxation. Yet they are mostly comprised of conservatives who supported Bush, the drunkest sailor of a spender in American history (he would have fallen off the boat at the tea party). I’m a libertarian, and I hate taxes as much as any of these teabaggers. But the thing is, Obama has CUT taxes. I am by no means blown away by the additional $20 in my last 2 paychecks, but it’s better than nothing. I’m sure the protestors benefited from the extra Jackson in purchasing posterboard and markers for their fancy rally signs. And even if Obama is putting a Boston Harbor full of taxpayer money into the stimulus package, at least he is funding laudable projects instead of an unnecessary war. In fact, it is conceivable that the government will reap returns on investments such as renewable energy, thus further lowering the burden to taxpayers.

So teabag away, Obama haters. You’ll ultimately be the ones on the wrong side of history looking like, to use another popular slang word, douchebags.

Insane on the Train: Addendum

2009-04-06T21:41:00.002-04:00

Just wanted to chime in here on E Murf's piece, partly because I'm an attention whore and partly because I wanna say she's dead on. In fact, I think we should go further. Metro itself is the source of too many transgressions lately for us to give them a pass.

First and foremost, especially in the context of the record fare increases E Murf mentioned, I want someone to explain to me why the christ I should ever be waiting more than four minutes for a train during peak hours. If it is between 3p and 7p and I'm being charged the maximum fare, there's no fucking reasonable excuse for me to have to wait ten minutes just to board a train to Rosslyn, where I will inevitable be crammed into an overcrowded train full of stinky bastards. One morning, I watched four Vienna-bound trains pass by before one New Carrolton train came. I can't remember a day when the escalators at all points in my commute -- all three stations -- actually worked. This wouldn't be such a huge problem if Metro wasn't so inept as to fail to label broken escalators and prevent people from trying to walk up AND down the same ones. Furthermore, I can't believe how terrible some of these drivers are. Why the fuck is it necessary to lurch forward inch-by-inch when there's another train stopped ahead, inducing nausea in all the passengers and making them fall all over each other? Why not just, ya know, fucking stop for a minute and let the train ahead move before you start moving?

An administration as inept as Metro's current one is never going to fix all of these problems, but I've got a suggestion for a good start: replace all the drivers with computers, and re-train the drivers as E Murf's suggested "pollution policemen." That way, everyone keeps their jobs, Metro makes money, and less people want to vomit during rush hour rides. As for the other problems? I got nothing. But that's not really my schtick, is it? I'm just here to throw my hands up in the air, bitch about it really loudly, and hope that somebody with a more actionable degree does something about it.

P.S., to E Murf: re: people playing their iPods too loud... I think the early 90's said it best: if it's too loud, you're too old!

Insane on the Train

2009-04-05T20:34:00.004-04:00

Like many businesses in this dismal economy, Metro is strapped for cash. Even with recent fare hikes and a surge in new riders due to high fuel costs, Metro’s financial situation is bleak. The deluge of tourons that descended upon our nation’s capital in January for The Obama’s inauguration, or the Cherry Blossom festival this month, may have provided a temporary boost in profits, but to survive in the long-term Metro will have to find another source of funding. I have a solution that will not only provide revenue, it will improve the quality of commuting for the half million riders in the DC area that depend on public transportation: Fine people who play their Ipods too loudly and people who wear too much cologne and/or perfume. These ignorant, inconsiderate, and quite frankly, disgusting people should be targeted with the same tenacity with which we are encouraged to report unattended bags.

Granted, the Metro brings out the worst in even the most sophisticated of men and women. We clamor and claw at one another to get on a certain train, knowing full well that another will follow approximately 2 minutes later. We curse at the oblivious tourists (and sometimes denizens) who stand in the left lane, jam the turnstiles because they can’t figure out how to put their damn fare card in the machine, and meander about aimlessly on the concourses, blocking us from the path to catch our connecting trains. But I believe that these reactions are a simple byproduct of the workaholic, competitive nature of DC residents. Once we actually board the train, we return to relative civility. We open up the Washington Post or a New York Times bestseller, and fall back into the comfort of our own invisible pods of self-absorption. Unfortunately, there are several among us who threaten the peaceful harmony that flourishes within the Metro trains, often making the atmosphere within the cars as chaotic and unpleasant as the struggle getting to the cars.

The first type of offender is the person who plays his/her Ipod at an unreasonably loud volume. They are called “personal” music devices for a reason: they are meant to be enjoyed privately without imposing on other people. One is not supposed to fire thunderous blasts of T.I. or Nickelback into the ears of other passengers. That’s right folks, as if it weren’t bad enough that I am distracted from my reading by the strident sounds from peoples’ headphones, the music is invariably in poor taste. But to be fair, and to set a good example, I believe that all Ipod/Walkman listeners should refrain from noise pollution and keep their music to themselves. It is disruptive to people trying to read, relax after a hard day at work, or even carry on a simple conversation. The other day I read the same paragraph 4 times because I could not concentrate with the shrill reverberations bursting forth from some asshole’s headphones. It was as if I had a boombox on my shoulder, but without the breakdancing. More importantly, noise pollution is pernicious to the health of others. In this respect it is similar to second-hand smoke. As a society we have agreed that if a person wants to contract lung cancer, then that is his or her right as an American citizen. But that person should not force others to bear the negative consequences of his or her unhealthy behavior. Likewise, if a person wants to render oneself deaf, he or she is entitled to do so. But that person should not destroy the hearing of others in the process. It is literally painful to bear the monstrous sounds sometimes; I can almost feel my ears bleeding. Noise pollution is a threat to peace of mind and the stability of the auditory senses.

The second type of Metro menace is the excessive cologne/perfume wearer. On what planet is it appealing to ward off a full-front assault on the olfactory system? A subtle dab of cologne, perfume, scented lotion, etc is acceptable, perhaps even attractive. But to douse oneself in a pungent substance like one bastes a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner is absolutely repulsive. It is literally nauseating, especially for people like me with allergies and asthma who have heightened sensitivity to strong, chemical-based odors. I had to leave a train last week because I was sick to my stomach, faint, and suffering a headache from one of these buffoons. It was as if the man swam 75 laps in an Olympic-sized swimming pool filled with Polo. I’ve had this happen on planes and elevators before, but the air pressure and filtering systems generally eliminate the noxious effects on planes, and elevator rides are short. Neither of these mitigating factors applies to the Metro system, at least not to us poor schleps who have to travel from Takoma Park to Arlington on a regular basis. I can’t imagine how one could completely lack awareness and/or concern for the fact that he or she is inducing nausea in fellow passengers. Olfactory pollution is a serious offense, and should be punished as such.

So what is Metro to do to thwart the reckless behavior of noise and olfactory polluters? It should do the same thing the federal government does with manufacturers that pollute the air and water: Tax Them! This solution is based on the simple economic concept of externalities. A firm takes its production costs and consumer preferences into consideration when it produces goods, ideally reaching a market equilibrium in which supply equals demand. But the firm does not account for the social costs of manufacturing which harm consumers, such as pollution. Therefore the actual consumer demand, and thus the socially optimum equilibrium, is lower than the privately optimum level. To make up for this difference – the externality imposed by the firm – the government charges a tax that reflects the difference between the socially and privately optimal prices. The tax revenues are then distributed back to the consumers via improved government services or tax cuts, which compensates for the noxious pollution they have to endure. Meanwhile, the burden of the tax deters firms from producing excessive pollution. Everyone is happy and the world is a better place.

Similarly, Metro should tax noise and olfactory polluters for the social costs they impose on other passengers. The tax should be equal to the difference between the socially and privately optimal levels of sound and smell. In an ideal situation, the offenders would pay these taxes at the time they purchase their cologne, perfume, or Ipod. However there is no way to predict a priori who will “pollute” and who will use these products responsibly, and we cannot rely on polluters to self-identify. Therefore I propose that Metro fine those who wear too much cologne and perfume, and those who listen to their Ipods too loudly. The fine should be equal to the average fare per rider * the average number of riders per train during high traffic hours (Approximately 8 AM-9PM). This is the fairest way to force polluters to take into consideration the comfort and welfare of other passengers. The process I envision is simple, though it will require some upfront costs. Here is the plan:

1) Metro assigns a “pollution policeman” for every train in service during high traffic hours.
2) The pollution policeman conducts regular “rounds”, patrolling up and down the center aisle of each car to listen and smell for polluters
3) If the pollution policeman can distinctly smell cologne or perfume, or hear noise from any headphones, he or she issues a ticket to the offender and takes a photograph of the offender.
4) The offender pays the ticket within 30 days, after which the fine increases and/or penalties are imposed.
5) Metro keeps a record of offenders with photographs and payment records. If any person has not paid within the 30 day window, Metro pollution policeman are authorized to order the offender to leave the train at the next stop, and alerts all other Metro policeman to look out for the offender and prevent him or her from riding any train. The offender will not be allowed to ride any Metro train until fines are paid.
6) The offender can appeal in a process similar to the traffic court process, but only with credible witnesses that testify under oath.

Of course this plan is not perfect, and like any public policy, there will be people who try to circumvent the law. But it is the most feasible and fair way to promote responsible and considerate commuting in DC. It will require hiring dozens of new staff, but it will also generate a considerable amount of income for Metro. After an initial round of reliable enforcement, the negative behavior will decrease and Metro pollution policemen can simply serve as a deterrent to maintain order in the Metro system. Eventually, Metro will be able to cut back on the pollution police force. At that time, the economy will have improved and/or Metro will have increased ridership and pollution policeman can be reassigned to expand services. After an initial surge in revenue from fines, income will decrease and plateau once people understand that Metro is serious about enforcing the pollution laws. However, the decrease in additional income will be offset by the corresponding increase in ridership, as commuters will be more likely to ride the train knowing the atmosphere is pleasant, as well as the adjustments in staff.

We the commuters of DC, in order to form a more perfect Metro, must take back our trains and rid them of unnecessary noise and smells. I urge you to contact your city councilperson immediately, write to Metro, and melodramatically demonstrate disapproval toward auditory and olfactory polluters. YES WE CAN go to work and return home headache and nausea free!

Extraordinary Renditions: the "Tim Geithner can stimulate my economy" Edition (and a GRAND re-opening)

2009-03-30T21:35:00.006-04:00

And now, for a dialogue between out two esteemed authors:

Erin: dogs in bathtub
Hey did you hear about that new recovery bill?

Phil: nope

Erin: Tim Geithner can stimulate my economy any day

Phil: I've spent the last two months extraordinarily renditioned in and undisclosed Eastern European prison

Erin: No way, really?

Phil: yeah, what the fuck have you been doing and why haven't there been any posts since Obamadan?

Erin: Well back to the Treasury Bill, so it's like this:
Reagan had trickle down economics
Now Obama/Geither have "laxative" economics
They are basically pumping money into the economy to try to move its bowels

Phil: um
eew

Erin: Well I know it's gross but it's the best way to explain it

Phil: so, aren't you even curious as to how my experience was in a super-secret CIA prison?

Erin: Geithner still thinks it's a liquidity crisis
He's so wrong. The banks are insolvent, yo
But he wants to throw more money at Wall Street and all these failing banks, hopefully they eventually take a hot steamy dump on us

Phil: ooh
like an economic Cleveland Steamer
I could get behind that
er
on top of that?
whichever

Erin: Ew, stop!

Phil: either way, that shit is gross

Erin: Seriously
I don't know if this plan will work, but I know that Tim Geither is hot and I would totally hit that

Phil: dude
that guy looks like the creep museum curator motherfucker in Ghostbusters 2
Janosh

Erin: You look like Slimer

Phil: I keep expecting a Geithner press conference where he's standing in front of a giant painting of an evil Carpathian god
ok so anyway, back to my rendition

Erin: Ooooooooooooooooh and then this batshit insane woman had octoplets, and she already has 6 kids! And she has no job! meanwhile, she's had mad plastic surgery to look like Angelina.

Phil: bitch...
I got tortured and shit

Erin: Yeah she is whack.
I was tortured too
By Pope Benedict's stupidity
First he lets a Nazi back into the church, then he says condoms don't work
What a turd

Phil: didn't our blog used to be about DC?

Erin: Oh, and speaking of torture, Guantanamo Bay is closing and they're trying to figure out what to do with all the "enemy combatants"
But they were all waterboarded and now their testimony is questionable
So it's a hot steamy mess

Phil: waterboarding sucks

Erin: Kind of like the economic package

Phil: I was treated as an enemy combatant
I think Cheney's got some rogue operation running in Turkmenistan or something
seriously, I have no idea where I was

Erin: Oh that's why you haven't posted. That makes sense. Well now you're back, so post already.

Phil: wait, what the christ was your excuse?

Erin: I had Seasonal Affective Disorder. I was too depressed to post. I spent most of January, February, and March in my bed

Phil: oh...
well
I feel like kind of a douche now

Erin: why?

Phil: uh, well, I wasn't really extraordinarily renditioned
I was just being a lazy slob

Erin: OMFG that is so unfair
Okay, I have a confession

Phil: ok

Erin: The real reason I didn't post is because I'm a lazy slob too

Phil: well
I like my story better

Erin: I was just trying to make you feel bad with the whole SAD thing

Phil: well my story involved delusions of grandeur that assumed I was important enough to be extraordinarily renditioned by some shadow Cheney government
plus like I'm even capable of being sad at this point
whatevs

Erin: He is such an anus face. I hate him. But he's not as bad as that fat-ass greasy drug-addicted blowhard Rush Limbaugh.
He looks like HE was extradorniary renditioned to Eastern Europe

Phil: only if Europe was made of cheeseburgers an he ate it

Erin: But the liberals are just as bad. Nancy Pelosi looks like Michael Jackson
No wait, I meant Joan Rivers

Phil: either way, she probably touches chirldren

Erin: She should put on a gold robot suit and start sassing off

Phil: hehe

Erin: Oh by the did you do your taxes yet?

Phil: FUCK
fucking
fuck

Erin: No wait, don't do it

Phil: why?

Erin: If you want a job in the Obama administration, you have to NOT pay taxes

Phil: ah
brilliant!
oh ya know what else?
MARCH MADNESS
OMG

Erin: whut?
Yeah, I'm MAD that March's weather won't stop sucking
Is that what you mean?

Phil: something like that

Erin: Oh you know what else sucks?

Phil: what?

Erin: Guess

Phil: um
communists?
hippies?

Erin: Well yeah, they all suck
But Metro takes the cake
There was train derailment on the red line. It took me 75 hours to get home

Phil: I derailed your mom
HOLLA

Erin: Oh snap, no you didn't!
Okay that's the point in the conversation where I say adios

Phil: dude you know what would be fucking great?

Erin: Tim Geithner naked press conference?

Phil: um
eew
no
but I was gonna say, if we just copied and pasted this whole chat and tried to pass it off as our grand re-opening post
people would fucking love that

Erin: Booya!
That works well with our laziness
Fucking a, why does Obama keep addressing the nation?

Phil: I dunno, but every time that dude is on TV, I get "Cult of Personality" stuck in my head

Erin: Jello Biafra

Phil: WTF?

Erin: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jello_Biafra
But actually he was in Dead Kennedys, not Living Colour
But I digress...time for bed. Good night!

Phil: um
night

Welcome by to the new and improved "Excuse Me, Is That Your Blog?" Super huge special thanks to Adam for the bitchin' site redesign! Hope you all enjoy it! Maybe we'll update more than once every three months this time. No promises.

Inaugurapocalypse

2009-01-21T14:58:00.005-05:00

Rarely can an event as historic as yesterday’s inauguration of Barack Obama be summed up with one word. But this one is easy: clusterfuck. Never have I been a part of such a piss-poorly managed event in my entire life.

My friends and I waited in a mile and a quarter long line on abandoned I-395. It was like a fucking George A. Romero flick. Occasionally, we were passed by ambulances, EMTs and buses full of TSA agents who apparently went nowhere and did nothing. And we were the lucky ones, because at least we got in. Thousands of legit ticket holders got screwed out of getting in, thanks to the brilliant foresight of the event planners. Seriously, would it have been hard to figure out how many people the event could hold and only print that many tickets? Or to get like, ten fucking cops posted along the streets with signs or megaphone directing the huddled masses to their cattle pens? Nobody had any clue what the christ they were doing. And incompetent leadership coupled with brain dead tourists = FAIL.

All this bullshit of course went down under the guise of “security” and, as usual, it ended up being more of a hassle than it was worth. When we finally crammed in to the gates, just in time to miss the oath of office, we walked through metal detectors and were briefly patted on the hips. Really fucking thorough. It was like one final “fuck you” from Bush as he guffawed his way out of office.

Though I have to say, it could have been worse. No one died, no one was arrested. In fact, the crowds were all very jovial from what I could tell. And the Metro may have run more efficiently yesterday than I’ve seen it run in my entire DC existence. Tourists were tourists, but most were decent. Most were courteous and respectful; they were here to witness history. Others were self-righteous yuppie douchebags glued to their iPhones, Twittering their thoughts so their douche friends back in New York or Chicago or Boston or Seattle could read them and be jealous (unlike me – I continually updated my Facebook status from my BlackBerry!). Still others were mindless morons that thought it would be a good idea to toss their babies in a backpack or a messenger bag and make them bear the cold for hours on end to see something they won’t remember. Many were devastated to find out they couldn’t drink Starbucks/eat McDonald’s/smoke/chew tobacco/be total assholes on the Metro. But again, these folks were the minority for once, and it was a lot of fun seeing America come together in DC for this thing

There are two things we can be really thankful for today. One, Barackstar is here to bring us Hope, Change, Unicorns, Cotton Candy and Ice Cream Sundays. Two, we don’t have to hear about the goddamn Whistle-stop Tour or what dress Michelle Obama is going to wear or how Obama loves basketball or what kind of dog the Obamas are getting.

Wait, who am I kidding? That shit’s never gonna let up. But at least the tourists will go home. And we can look forward to George W. Bush’s post-election antics. Do I smell “Celebrity Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?”

Y'all are crazy: A rebuttal by a crotchety old cynic, aka Sober Pundit

While Turk and El Braixan foolishly ventured into the Arctic weather and smothering throng of tourons to catch a glimpse of Obama on a jumbotron, I watched the proceedings unfold from the comfort of my friends' couch in Sherman Oaks. That's right folks, I escaped to Los Angeles to avoid the aforementioned hot mess. Or shall I say, "cold mess?" As my colleagues waited in unbearably long lines to be ceremoniously examined by security guards, or to take a piss, I relaxed in my pajamas, sipping freshly brewed coffee and making goofy faces at my friends' adorable 14-month-old son. Sure they got to experience history in the making, which is the same reason the damn fools took a cab from Arlington to the White House on Election Night to drunkenly belt the National Anthem with some fratboys from GW. But there are few things an old fart (I'm 29) like me despises more than crowds, cold weather, and lack of immediate access to a clean bathroom. Nosiree, I'd rather stay home and watch the President-elect and Chief Justice fumble the oath of office close up on a Television screen, with Wolf Blitzer and that prematurely grey homosexual man explaining everything in detail so I don't have to constantly ask, "What did he say? Who's that tramp dressed like a woman for hire?"* If'n I were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the District for this tomfoolery, I would brandish my cane at the audience assembled on the National Mall and scream, "GET OFF MY LAWN!"**

*Turns out it was Dr. Jill Biden

**GET OFF MY LAWN will premiere soon as part of an ongoing series on Excuse Me, is that your Blog? Our senior correspondent, Sober Pundit, will lament all that is wrong with "kids these days" and how their parents raised them improperly.

OBAMADAN

2008-12-24T16:36:00.007-05:00

It’s that time a year again, when families relax by the fire to commemorate the holiday season and sip hot cocoa while reflecting on the year gone by. But this year, things are different. It’s not about Christmas or Chanukah or Kwanza or some amorphous, politically correct “Holiday.” This year, the world can gather together to celebrate OBAMADAN.

In the tradition of other made-up holidays like Festivus, we here at EMITYB are proud to bring you our newly founded holiday. So gather ‘round, children, as we recount the miracle of Obamadan.

Details of the Obamadan legend are fuzzy, but historians have built a consensus based on the following account:

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away (Hawaii), the world was in peril. War raged, energy was scarce and cholera was taking its toll. A young woman with child walked the streets of in search of a place to bear her offspring, a child that was destined to be The Chosen One. His fate was foretold by Thomas Jefferson’s hazy vision 200 years ago, that may or may not have been opium-induced. The father was back in his native Kenya, having abandoned the woman to give birth and raise the child alone. Lacking health care, the woman searched long and hard for an inn rather than a hospital, but alas, every last Motel 6 had lit its “NO Vacancy” sign. It was at the bleak Ayers Compound that the woman finally found refuge, and, yea, her child was birthed amidst a kindling of straw and Marxist literature. It was a strong child, wrapped in swaddling clothes, donning a Che Guevara hat, and bearing the mark of the Savior. Visitors came from far and wide, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and biodeisel fuel. Corn-fed cows from the monoculture farms of Iowa kept the baby warm. This child, “The Obama”, would be our shining light.

The Obama grew to be a strong boy and a skilled carpenter, lending his craft to a slew of LEED certified high-density, mixed-use, transit-oriented developments. He worked for approximately one month, and then decided he was better suited for managerial duties rather than manual labor. He also had one bitch of a splinter. Both the pain from the splinter and his passion for helping the underdog inspired him to organize his former coworkers in a lifelong campaign against “The Man”. The Obama would go on to win the adoration and admiration of many followers, and eventually defeated The Man in an apocalyptical showdown for the presidency. Soon he will rule the world from his sacred Temple at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in the District of Columbia.

Obamadan is a month-long celebration held every year in honor of The Obama, culminating on January 20th. It is a festive holiday marked by indulgence and revelry, symbolizing the bounty brought to us by The Obama’s hard work over the years. Unlike most holidays that encourage self-sacrifice, those who participate in Obamadan are encouraged to “slow” over the course of the month, meaning they should eat constantly throughout the day at a slow speed. During Obamadan, it is improper to NOT drink every night after the sun goes down. In fact, some bars are starting to recognize the growing number of Obamadan supporters and vowing to stay open until 5am during the height of the festivities.

On each day of Obamadan, believers light Change Candles to signify The Obama’s victory over The Man. On the eve of the final night of the celebration, children leave a plate of organic carob-chip cookies and a warm mug of soy milk under their Hope Shrubberis in anticipation of a visit from Obamaclause. Obamaclause is the embodiment of The Obama’s good will, and is said to fly around the world in his hybrid sled led by a team of eight free-range reindeer every January 19th to deliver MacBooks, welfare checks, and New York Times Magazines to all the good little boys and girls. The bad kids, however, will receive a lump of clean coal.

Happy Obamadan, from all of us here at EMITYB.

It's been a long time, we shouldn't have left you

2008-12-13T17:14:00.003-05:00

...without a dope post to step to.

So Turk and I have been unbelievably busy at the think tank that shall not be named. But we're back and we're revving up a couple bad-ass pieces to launch this holiday season.

First, you thought Festivus was cool, wait until you experience OBAMADAN!!!

Then, forget Time Magazine's "Person of the Year", we're going to unveil ITYB's "Asshat of the Year" for 2008. We'd love your input! Vote for your favorite moron in our new poll.

Hate in the Time of Cholera

2008-12-13T17:01:00.005-05:00

One of the most groundbreaking discoveries in public health research was John Snow’s 1854 study on the cholera epidemic in London, in which he traced the disease to a contaminated water supply. Snow’s findings prompted the construction of new sewage systems and advancements in hygienic practices throughout the developed world. Unfortunately, 1.1 billion people still lack access to safe water and 2.6 billion live in areas without proper sanitation.[1] Cholera and other preventable infectious diseases continue to plague (and yes, THE plague is still around believe it or not) third world countries in Africa and Southwest Asia. The World Health Organization, which has a hilarious way of spelling “diarrhea” (diarrhoea), reported over 130,000 cases of cholera in 2005[2].

In the past few months, a severe cholera outbreak has emerged in Zimbabwe. The country has been experiencing major political turmoil since a hotly contested campaign between Robert Mugabe and Morgan Tsvangirai in March. While the later won more votes, he did not secure the 50% needed for a conclusive victory, prompting a runoff election this summer. However reports of corruption, intimidation, and suppression on the part of Mugabe loyalists caused Tsvangirai to pull out of the election. Despite calls for resignation from fellow African leaders, and sanctions from Western nations, Mugabe refuses to concede. As he clutches to power, infrastructure and services in the country have been deteriorating, hence the current sanitation problems causing the cholera epidemic.

It is reprehensible that in 2008, with all the advances in modern medicine, there should be even one case of diseases like cholera, let alone thousands. While Americans are dying from “Western” diseases of overconsumption, such as diabetes, people in third world nations are dying from viruses that have been completely eradicated in developed nations. It makes me furious. In fact I’m burning mad, almost as if I had cholera myself.

The US has basically been mum while Mugabe has presided over a dictatorship of hyperinflation and epidemic, leaving the people of Zimbabwe economically and physically decimated. If our rational behind the war in Iraq was to free the Iraqi people from the atrocities of Saddam Hussein, why aren’t we equally if not more concerned about Mugabe’s misdeeds? Well, as Kanye West once opined, “George Bush doesn’t care about black people.” We haven’t intervened in the abhorrent violence and abuse taking place right now in the Sudan or Democratic Republic of Congo, so why should Zimbabwe deserve special attention? It reminds me of the George Washington video that was a YouTube sensation a couple years ago, in which our first president is depicted reading a newspaper while a lion devours a British kid. We’ll save children, but not the African children.

I hope that our first African-American president will get in touch with his Kenyan roots and have sympathy for a continent that suffers more than the average American can even comprehend. Instead of sending our troops to pillage for oil in countries that pose no threat to our security, we should deploy them strategically to help the truly defenseless people in third-world nations like Zimbabwe. Dictatorships like Mugabe’s are the real weapons of mass destruction, as they wreck infrastructure and economies and perpetuate abject poverty. We can’t call ourselves the champions of freedom when we pick our battles so discriminately.

[1] World Health Organization. The world health report 2007: a safer future: global public health security in the 21st century. http://www.who.int/whr/2007/whr07_en.pdf.
[2] World Health Organization. Weekly epidemiological record. 4 AUGUST 2006, No. 31, 2006, 81, 297–308.

Home for the Holidays?

2008-11-19T20:39:00.005-05:00

So the Sober Pundit and I were talking today about how the christ we're going to get home for Thanksgiving. We were lamenting the lack of reasonably priced transit options for car-free individuals. It sucks for me, because I basically have to rely on friends with cars to get back to Cleveland unless I wanna shell out $300 bucks for a plane ticket or spend nearly as much on the goddamn Amtrak only to arrive six hours late and drunk off booze bought by some crazy AWOL Army man (true story). SP's got it a bit easier, being from Philly, but her options aren't much better. Not wanting to deal with the trials an tribulations of the Chinatown bus, she's decided to take the Greyhound. Here's to hoping her fear of being stabbed, decapitated and eaten doesn't come to fruition.

I really do enjoy living without a car here in DC, but there are certain times like these when it would be really nice to have one and not have to get raped paying for inefficient, shitty transit options. A rational person would tell me to suck it up and acknowledge that this is the price I pay for embracing and relying on mass transit without owning a car. But fuck that, I'm gonna bitch anyway.

The US really needs to get its shit together when it comes to transit. As much as I hate to admit it, those snobby European pricks got it right a lot sooner than we did on this front. Of course it was probably easy for them to focus on since the entire continent has produced nothing of significant cultural or economic value since before WWII (and don't try to present a rational argument to me about the Euro or any of that other pansy bullshit -- Europe basically exists to get bratty, self-entitled white kids out of their parents' hair during their college or post-college years).

So who can we look to to solve our transit woes? Well fear not, good citizens. Once The Obama comes to power and takes everyone’s cars and gives the highways back to nature, there will be a Metro straight from DC to anywhere we could possibly wanna go. Then we will still get pissed when we have to wait 19 goddamn minutes for the next Alabaster Line train to Seattle or when the trains to Mecca are packed on Obamadaan and they're only running four-cars.

Getting home for the holidays will be that much sweeter.

Prepare Your Children for the Gay Communist Madrassahs

2008-11-08T17:27:00.011-05:00

In classic EMITYB style, I come to you three days late with my reactions to Tuesday night’s election. I mean fuck it, it doesn’t have to be timely if it’s snarky, right?

Anyway, so it’s official. The terrorists have won. As one distraught American (my aunt) put it, “it’s a shame our children will have to be raised socialists and all our babies will be killed.” Yes, folks, Barack Obama is or 44th president. Enjoy these last few months of freedom, because the Red Dawn is upon us.

As I sat and watched CNN interview Will.I.Am on their fancy Star Trek hologram machine I realized for certain that this was going to be a new America (Personally, I feel like if CNN was going to interview someone so fucking insignificant and irrelevant to the election, and it had to be a Black Eyed Pea, it would have been much funnier to have Fergie there, stung out on crystal meth and wetting her pants while attempting to enumerate the virtues of an Obama presidency). After watching president-for-life-elect Obama deliver the first of his many victory speeches to the new American proletariat in Chicago, I dashed downstairs an took the first cab I could find to Coruscant/The White House to participate in the felling of the statue of Palpatine and then headed out to the drunken Ewok afterparty watched over by the floating apparitions Lincoln, FDR and JFK.

In clebration of such an historic event, word has it that within the next couple of weeks, every American will receive an Obama care package in the mail, in lieu of an economic stimulus check. It will be his first attempt to spread the “wealth,” while safely guarding all the nation’s food, money, rubies and gold to finance the construction of gay communist madrassahs across the country for early indoctrination of our children. The care package will contain:

1 bottle chardonnay
1 voucher for fresh, organic arugula at the closest local farmer’s market
1 iPod nano, special FEIST edition
1 MacBook Pro
1 literary starter two-pack containing Mao’s “Little Red Book” and the Koran
Lifetime subscription to Pravda, The New York Times
1 Che Guevara Fathead

We can only hope this modest lot will prepare us for our journey. Strap yourselves in, Comrades, the there’s a long march ahead.

Tears for Fears of Queers

2008-11-07T12:05:00.001-05:00

While America took a giant step forward this week by electing its first African-American president, three states took a giant step back. Voters in Arizona, Florida, and even the liberal bastion of California approved ballot measures amending their constitutions to ban same-sex marriage. How one can resolve the cognitive dissonance of voting for Obama but against equality for LGBT people, as many in California and Florida clearly did, is beyond me. Conservatives forced these repressive initiatives to the polls using euphemisms such as “protecting marriage” and “saving the children”. But let’s face it, what it really amounts to is fear.

I don’t know why so many people in America still hate gay people. I suspect that a great deal of these bigots have issues surrounding their own sexuality, and project that anger onto innocent homosexuals who simply want to be recognized as human beings. They are scared of themselves; therefore they are scared of gays. The others are simply ignorant. Having never been exposed to the GLBT community in their presumably rural, backwater towns, they have a visceral reaction to the idea of men kissing other men (and you know it’s really only the man on man action that disturbs them, for they probably own several lesbian porno flicks).

Naturally, the proponents of Proposition h8te and the other anti-gay initiatives will not admit that they are motivated by fear. Instead they cultivate fear in regular citizens by making them think that their livelihood is under attack – that the Donna Reed heterosexual marriages of lore are somehow invalidated because Harry met Harry instead of Sally. The right wing fiercely clings to the “sacred institution” of marriage as if it’s a divine relationship beyond reproach. Never mind the fact that over half of marriages end in divorce, and countless others are marred by physical, verbal, and substance abuse, infidelity, financial exploitation, and good old fashioned codependence. They also neglect to mention that marriage is a secular contract recognized by the state for legal purposes. It may be celebrated in a religious ceremony if the couple chooses to do so, but truthfully the only “requirement” for marriage is showing up at city hall to get a license.

So whatever excuses anti-gay people concoct in their twisted efforts to ban gay marriage, the truth of the matter is that they are scared. Instead of doing what most people do when they have a phobia – avoid it or take Xanax – the conservatives march their irrational fears all the way to the Secretary of State. They whine to voters like babies in soiled diapers, expecting to be coddled with prejudiced Constitutional amendments.

Well if we’re going to start passing public policies based on fear and discomfort, then I have an agenda of my own:

1) Ban Ferris Wheels. They are scary. I threw up on my friend once in a Ferris Wheel. She didn’t believe I was afraid of heights. I showed her! No more will these menacing machines of death be a harbinger of spring carnivals. Hoodlums on the Santa Monica Pier will have to knife fight by the Tilt-a-Whirl now.
2) Ban Ski Lifts. Again, being up high in an insecure seat wobbling to and fro is basically my idea of hell. Sorry Aspen, you’re going down.
3) While we’re at it, ban ALL heights. Let’s demolish all buildings above 1 story, and require all new buildings to be no higher. Sure things are going to get tight, and that brings me to my next item.
4) Ban all public gatherings. I am agoraphobic as well as acrophobic (best of both worlds-w00t!). The only words that come to mind when I see more than 5 or 6 people standing together are “stampede” and “infectious disease.”
5) Ban cockroaches. All houses and business must be thoroughly doused by pest control professionals to eradicate all roaches. (Fortunately the buildings will only be one story high at this point.) While the exterminators are at it, they should get the rats too - they are nasty. Cops will be directed to immediately open fire on any of these horrific creatures that happen to survive.
6) Ban Suzuki commercials. That little “zoom zoom” kid creeps me out.
7) Ban clowns. Do I even need to explain this one?

In conjunction with the fear factor is the “eeeew” factor. Some people oppose GLBT rights because they are grossed out by the mere thought of these people expressing their love for one another, despite the fact that the behavior of GLBT folks doesn’t affect them in the slightest. So in this vein, the following things must also be outlawed on account of me finding them disgusting:

1) Muffin topping – 4 years in prison and a $10,000 fine.
2) Farting, nose-picking, and coughing up phlegm – 3 years of forced manual labor and an additional 1 year of community service, preferably in the psych ward of a public hospital.
3) Old people sex - $5,000,000 fine (mostly to pay my therapy bills) and mandatory participation in a 12-step program.
4) Mullets – The death penalty.

I hope that by listing these examples, I have demonstrated the logical fallacy and ridiculousness of passing public policy based on irrational fears. I suggest that the people who opposes gay marriage take a good look at themselves and figure out what is really bothering them, and work on those issues instead of taking out their fear on innocent people. For when the government starts interfering in the private lives of its citizens simply because some voters oppose certain lifestyles, there is no telling where the slippery slope will lead. And THAT my friends, is something to be afraid of.

No One Cares Where You've Been Overseas

2008-10-31T18:05:00.005-04:00

If I hear one more goddamn person talk about their overseas adventures in a way that sounds nonchalant but is really meant to come off like "OMG-I'm-so-much-more-cultured-than-you!!!" I'm gonna lose it. I realize this is totally off the cuff and random and ranty, but I overheard a girl in the lobby of my apartment today -- dressed, of course, in full OMG FITNESS attire -- insipidly chatting with her uninterested workout buddy about the amount of bugs they encountered on their recent camping trip. That's when she busted out this gem:

"OMIGOD when I was in Guyana, there were so many flies it was SO GROSS, and I thought Guyana was cool at first but, like, that's just cuz it was my first time overseas and, actually it was, like, really ghetto."

In case you're unclear as to where this rant is going, let me break it down for ya: nobody gives a fuck where you've been. Traveling abroad is, in all seriousness, a wonderful and enriching experience. Everyone who has the opportunity should do it. That said, please realize that a) EVERYONE in DC has some TOTALLY FASCINATING story about their trip abroad and b) not everyone has the money/opportunity to take a year to just dick off in Europe or Africa for no good reason, so talking about your experience unsolicited -- especially in that "OMG" tone -- makes you sound like a douche even if you aren't one, and an even bigger douche if you already are.

Anyway, rant over. Just had to get that out, because it totally reminded me of this one time I was swarmed with mosquitoes in a bazaar in the ancient walled city of Khiva during my internship in Uzbekistan.

Why the New Great Depression's Gonna be Awesome

2008-10-29T21:16:00.013-04:00

Consider all the recent economic turmoil. Banks being bailed out. Wall Street crashing. Dogs and cats living together. Mass hysteria. Sound familiar? Sounds like 1929 to me. Eerily, it's like, exactly 79 years since the Great Depression. And you know what they say about the number 79. Oh, you don't? Nevermind. Anyway, all this talk about ECONOMIC CRISIS and FINANCIAL COLLAPSE got us thinkin' - what would another Great Depression look like in 2008?

First off, it wouldn't simply be called the Second Great Depression. Our generation is much too clever for that (Iraq War? War on Terrorism? Doesn't get much snappier than that!). No, it'd be something witty and uniquely descriptive, something along the lines of Great Depression II: XTREME ULTIMATE DEPRESSION. I can just smell the zipping Fox News graphics. Wolf Blitzer will be fired for devouring Anderson Cooper amidst all the excitement (and also because he sucks).

And just think of all the awful hardships we'll suffer if this thing really does hit rock bottom. There will be bank runs, until people realize all the high-yield online bank accounts they considered to be shrewd investments have simply deleted their websites and disappeared their money into the ether (FDIC-ya!). Left with nowhere to turn but the stack of Euros stashed in their mattresses (converted from dollars after a semester abroad in Europe opened their eyes to the futility of the dollar), people will start to consider Starbucks venti soy lattes a luxury rather than a necessity, and be forced to ration them accordingly. Jilted K Street lobbyists will be forced to drive wheelbarrows full of cash to the cupcake shop in Georgetown for just one shot of icing, and Anne Taylor stores will be looted and ravaged as feral trophy girlfriends revert to their primal instincts in the face of crippling economic hardship (better than having to shop at H&M!). Imagine the GDII:XUD bread lines: scores of self-entitled little hillrats bitching about the lack of low-carb, locally produced, organic handouts while updating their Twitters and Facebook statuses with snarky complaints from their iPhones and Blackberries.

Then there's the sad prospect of all these upstanding citizens foreclosing on their homes and being forced under bridges and into the city as their suburban condos burn down in riotous flames. Forget about the fabled "Purple Line" and "Southeast Waterfront" - there will be no economic development in DC (which sucks, because we were really looking forward to hitting up Bed, Bath and Beyond after Nats games). Picture these new "McCainburghs:" lean-tos made from gore-tex backpacks and camping material, set up next to wifi hotspots (and you thought Tryst's service was slow now!).

The privileged few who manage to retain their off-Columbia Heights rowhouses will have to survive by selling bathtub craft beer (Blue Moonshine). In a poetic reversal of fortune, yuppie couples hoisting oddly-named children in Baby Bjorns will have to join the El Salvadorian immigrants they once hired to build their decks in the wandering pursuit of employment. Boutique ethnic restaurants and pretentious eateries with monosyllabic names will be forced to close, as residents will no longer be able to afford fancy meals (The Crepes of Wrath).

Horrible things to consider, indeed - but will there be an FDR to save us this time around?

We certainly hope Obama will win next week and hit us up with a bitchin' "Nuevo Deal." If so, we are TOTALLY applying for jobs with the Tennessee Valley Authority! Unfortunately, the only other option we have to rescue our asses besides a GOP smackdown is another World War, and that would be extremely, ultimately depressing.

~ T & SP

A Clipboard and a Cause

2008-10-29T13:32:00.003-04:00

Hi folks. I’m sorry I’ve been M.I.A. I’ve had a rough month, including but not limited to a breakup, moving, and studying for the GREs. But I thought I’d take a time out to discuss something that has been on my mind for quite a while.

There is an abominable mob sweeping the DC metropolitan area like a plague of locusts. If you happen to walk to any Metro station to commute to work, or even meander a block from your residence to get Starbucks, you will fall prey to its nefarious clutches. No one is immune to the harassment of this diabolical syndicate.

I am referring, of course, to DNC and Greenpeace field organizers.

What’s so bad about the DNC or Greenspeace, you may ask? Aren’t they generally liberal, peace-loving people who want to save humanity and the earth? Yes, they are. But the strategy they employ to pursue these otherwise benign causes is to station extroverted, loud, and persistent activists with clipboards at busy intersections to guilt trip the populace into donating cash. I hate them.

I work hard for a living, and it happens to be in a field that promotes many of the ideals DNC and Greenpeace support: public health. After spending 40 hours a week examining options to improve and expand health care, and preparing the nation for various public health emergencies, the last thing I want to do is talk to some cocksure 22-year old telling me the world is going to end if I don’t give him $25. (It would at least be funny if he asked for “about $3.50.”) These young zealots spout cliché talking points that demonstrate a sophomoric level of understanding of the issues, alienating would-be supporters. Moreover, it is virtually impossible to endear people to a cause while bombarding them after a long day at work, and it’s equally counterintuitive to pester them on a weekend off from their strenuous jobs. To add insult to injury, the activists try to make you feel ashamed if you don’t contribute, shouting things like, “Donate to Obama or we’ll have another 4 years of Bush”, “Put your money where your mouth is if you care about the Earth”, and “Not giving us cash makes the baby Jesus cry!” Okay maybe the last example was an exaggeration, but who wants to be blamed for the economy being in the shitter and the environment being laid to waste? There are far more constructive and effective things people can do to make a difference in the world besides donating to Political Action Committees.

In addition to the pure annoyance of these clipboard-carrying gadflies, I am also incensed by the lack of respect for financial privacy. If I want to donate to Obama, I can find his goddamn website on my own and enter my credit card digits in the privacy of my own home or cube. It is nobody’s business how I spend my money, least of all a meddling young adult who doesn’t have a firm enough grasp of the real world to appreciate the trade-offs people face when budgeting for life’s myriad expenses.

That brings me to my next point: HELLO?! RECECESSION MUCH?! I am trying to pay my rent, feed myself, and get myself to and from work, all of which cost significant amounts of a money, during an economic crisis with skyrocketing prices and stagnant wages. No matter how much I love Obama and freedom and peace and nature, I have to survive first and foremost to appreciate any of these things. One would think that the side trying to undo all of this damage and oust the Bush administration would be sympathetic to my plight, but instead they try to squeeze non-existent disposable income out of me. Well keep squeezing, you ain’t gonna find a drop.

The thing that upsets me most about getting harassed by field organizers is that I practice their ideology daily, in fact probably more so then they do themselves. I don’t drive, I don’t eat meat, I don’t waste water or other resources, and I don’t support “evil” corporations (assuming the definition of “evil” is Walmart and not Starbucks). I’m a living, breathing example of all their causes. I don’t expect them to recognize that fact in a quick glance at me after I get off the Metro escalator, but it still irritates me when they approach me asking for even more effort and money. Isn’t it enough that I embody all of your beliefs? Do I really need to cut you a check in order to prove myself a good citizen?

I understand that these kids are young, inexperienced, underpaid idealists with good intentions. I should not begrudge them their little rants if it makes them feel better about themselves. But at the same time, the organizations that employ them should rethink their strategies for fundraising. I don’t know if having people with clipboards bother commuters is an effective technique for garnering donations – I have never seen conclusive research on this topic – but I can’t imagine that it actually gets results. It’s a sad fact in politics that people in the top income bracket are the only ones that can comfortably donate to political causes and candidates, and the gap is ever widening between them and normal working folks like me. Sure one can organize a grassroots, Howard-Dean inspired campaign to expand the base of small contributors, but that can easily be achieved through the internet rather than in-person solicitation. I’m far more likely to make a donation if one of my friends posts a compelling note on Facebook than if some random dude with a nose ring comes up to me on the street asking if I care about the Earth. I highly doubt that the marginal gains these activists make compensates for the inconvenience and annoyance factors.

In conclusion, I ask simply to be left alone when I walk down the street. I’m smart enough to conduct my own research into the issues and make my own decisions, and I want to do it on my time and my terms. I have faith that rest of the DC residents can do the same.

DC Beer Tour, Part II: Quarry House Tavern

2008-10-23T14:26:00.004-04:00

I’ve been meaning to review Quarry House Tavern for a while, in keeping with my DC Beer Tour series, but I just haven’t had the chance. Now that I do, it’s time to give this classic Silver Spring establishment its due respect.

Walk down the thirteen steps into this basement-level bar for the first time and it’s easy to see why the Quarry House Tavern is one of the DC area’s oldest and most respected watering holes. Referring to itself as “Silver Spring’s Favorite Dive,” QHT doesn’t disappoint. The place is dark, dingy and decorated in such a way that you’d have no idea what year it was if it weren’t for the largely hipster crowd. The bathroom is one of the most unique situations I’ve ever seen – you’ve just got to see it for yourself. But all of these things add to the charm of what is the best of a dying breed down here – the authentic, unpretentious dive bar. The experience only gets better when you see the beer list.

QHT’s “Beericulum Vitae ” (*This links to a beer list that’s older than a year. The BV changes constantly, and is now divided by type of beer rather than country of origin.) is the most formidable beer list I’ve seen in DC thus far. It may not boast the sheer number of draft beers as RFD (QHT has seven rotating taps and a permanent tap for Guinness), but the variety is breathtaking. From your standard American macrobrews to some of America’s best craft brews and on to some of the most obscure and exotic imports (including a wide selection of Trappist ales), there’s something to please the palate of any type of beer lover. During my most recent visit, I tried two brews from Oskar Blues , a Colorado brewery that was the first to distribute craft brew in cans. The “Ten FIDY” is a delicious, creamy Imperial Stout with a rich, chocolaty taste that, despite the 10% ABV, goes down smooth and leaves you feeling wonderfully warm. Probably the best stout I’ve ever had. The “Dale’s Pale Ale” was decent, especially for a canned brew, but looked and smelled more robust than it tasted. Regardless of personal taste, the presence of Oscar Blues on QHT’s menu is testament to the scope of the venue’s endeavor, as it is one of the few places in the DC metro area where you can find the rare brew. I’ve had countless other beers at QHT and have never been let down. There is the rare occasion when they’ll be out of an especially exotic beer, but given the size of the operation, the quality of the experience and the low probability of this happening, it likely won’t ruin your night. Likewise, the prices are such that you can enjoy two or three unique brews without going broke – markups are some of the lowest I’ve seen in DC, especially when compared to RFD.

What sets QHT above and beyond even the most bombastic beer snob hangouts is the quality of the service, food and entertainment. On even the busiest Saturday night, the bar is run smoothly and efficiently, and you will rarely wait long for your drink even if you are seated rather than at the bar. Food may take a while on occasion, but not without good reason. I’ve never had anything to drink there besides the beer, but I’ve noticed an ever-growing cache of high-end liquor as well, which the bartenders serve with care in addition to managing the taps and bottles. QHT is also home to what I consider to be the best happy hour special in the DC area – half-price burger Mondays, where patrons can choose from third-pound or half-pound patties topped with an array of great stuff (*The food menu, like the beer list, hasn’t been updated for a while on the website, but is basically the same.) and served with a side salad or, as a unique touch, tater tots. And the burgers are damn good. The entertainment is top-notch as well; QHT sports an old-school jukebox spinning everything from Buddy Holly to Weezer and doubles as a concert venue, famous for its rockabilly Saturdays (concert calendar can be found on the main MySpace page).

As an after-work hangout or weekend dive-bar destination, there are few better places in DC than QHT. “Beers. Burgers. Basement.” That’s their slogan – and all three are done exceptionally well. Give QHT a whirl if you haven’t already, and if you have, I’ll see ya there again on Monday.

Quarry House Tavern
8401 Georgia Ave
Silver Spring, Maryland 20910
301-587-8350

People who have to ride the Chinatown bus because they can't afford Amtrak for Obama

2008-09-27T18:30:00.006-04:00

Damn this recession sucks balls. I’m no economist, but I am a normal tax-paying citizen who has been financially ass-raped over the course the past year. And that’s without a car! Because of the Bush administration’s hatred of all things science and research, my think tank could only afford to give me a measly 4% pay raise this summer. Meanwhile everything from veggie burgers to tampons have risen in price, and I’ve had to become a lot less picky about what I put in both orifices. It’s been so bad I had to take a second job tutoring for the SATs. But even that hasn’t helped much. Everyone is suffering from this recession, which means there are fewer families that can afford tutors. And tutoring is the only reasonably paying second job available for someone with no experience waiting tables and too much self respect to resort to prostitution.

My financial distress has major repercussions. I have to move out of my apartment because I can no longer afford the rent. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a place that accepts cats and isn’t roach-infested or void of natural sunlight (or worst of all, located in the Commonwealth of Virginia - no offense to my co-authors). I don’t have the money to buy local organic foods, as I would like; ramen is now a staple rather than a last resort. I imagine many other environmentally conscious consumers have also had to compromise their morals for their survival, which means less money is going to honest and decent farmers trying to make a living without suckling the USDA teat. I am unable to go to many concerts, movies, or other economy-stimulating activities. And, what’s probably the most frustrating consequence at this particular moment – I have to take the Chinatown bus to Philadelphia to visit my parents because I cannot shell out $100 for Amtrak. I’m on the bus as I write this post, wobbling precariously to and fro on the Baltimore Turnpike as the stench of BO and urine permeates the air. I wish they served beer – not that I could afford one.

I don’t want it to sound as though I am whining. I realize I am probably spoiled compared to many other Americans that are suffering more severely from the recession. I have a decent job and a roof over my head (for now) and food in my tummy (for now). I am only sharing my story because I think a lot of people can relate - People like me who were too young during the last recession to actually feel it personally, and who grew up with the promise that if we went to college and tired our best, we’d be better off than previous generations. Well now we’re not kids anymore, and our university campuses no longer shelter us. Now we’re in the real world, and in a real economic downtown, and it fucking hurts like hell.

I can’t help but look to the presidential race for answers in this time of need. I realize that no one person can control the entire economy, but where is that prosperity and opportunity that President Bush promised us in 2000? It certainly hasn’t “trickled down” to me, and with the financial crisis on Wall Street it looks like it hasn’t even lasted for the richest of the rich. Is our economy in such bad shape because we’re squandering money in Iraq? Did a lack of regulation cause the financial market to go belly-up? Did the tax cuts for the wealthy merely result in less income for the government instead of reinvestment in the economy? I have a feeling a combination of all these factors has conspired to bring about our current situation. Again, I’m no expert. But I know one thing for certain – Bush’s way obviously doesn’t work. If it did, I’d be on an Amtrak train right now sipping on a Bloody Mary. Normal folks like us are getting screwed under the current system. And there’s a not a lick of difference between Bush and McCain. They both have the same staunch philosophy of no government, no taxes, no spending, and no regulation, ever. Except for unnecessary and ill-planned wars, in which case let’s spend like drunken sailors and castigate anyone who disagrees with us. Oh yeah, and your bedroom. They definitely want government all up in that. Don’t have sex unless it’s for the sole purpose of procreation, in the context of a heterosexual Church-sanctioned marriage. And whatever you do, don’t be gay! Who cares if you’re dirt poor, as long as them damn homosexuals aren’t prancing around the streets?

Seriously? Do we really need another second of this bullshit, let alone 4 more years?

I’m not arguing that Barack Obama is a miracle worker. I don’t expect things to magically get better overnight. But for fuck’s sake, after 8 years of failure on everything from the economy to foreign policy, don’t we at least deserve a chance to make it better? We need to go in a different, more promising direction. If nothing else, Barack Obama represents a new worldview, which is sorely needed at this time. I can’t live off of ramen for the rest of my life, and the US food market won’t sustain itself if everyone is buying ramen from China. And not to keep knocking on China, but this bus is sketchtastic.

So please, vote for Barack Obama. After all, voting is free. We can definitely afford that. But we can’t afford another Republican president. Trickle down economics is just as it sounds - piss - like the smell of a Chinatown bus.

A Pedestrian's Plea

2008-09-23T12:46:00.003-04:00

There are not many benefits to living in Washington D.C. The rent is astronomical. The people are tools. We don’t have representation in Congress. There are rats – flagrant rats that appear out of nowhere, demanding cheese like drug addicted homeless people. But to the city’s credit, it is very accessible. I have acquired sleeker and sexier thighs from the sheer amount of walking I do on a daily basis. I can walk to all the important places I frequent - grocery stores, bars, and my boyfriend’s house. Any place I can’t access by foot is merely a short metro ride away, at least on Monday-Friday (and where else to go on weekends but grocery stores, bars, and one’s boyfriend’s house). My perambulation serves as a source of exercise, meditation, and an act environmental conscientiousness.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the district is so keen on walking. Despite being rated as the second worst metropolitan area for traffic congestion, exorbitant fuel prices, and my previous observation that no one should need to drive in the city, there are a considerable amount of motorists on the streets of Washington D.C. And they’re all assholes.

Before living in D.C., there were only 2 times in my entire life (28 years at that point) that I was within seconds of death. One time, in early childhood, was at the aquarium in Baltimore, when I almost fell in the shark tank (they’ve since secured the area). The second time, in my adolescence, was when a hot iron almost fell on my face. Yet in just over one year of residency in the district, I’ve had countless unwelcome reminders of my mortality. Motorists in this town run me down like lions chasing gazelles on the Serengeti.

Let me make something clear: I am a prudent pedestrian. I obey traffic signals and observe crosswalks. I don’t just dart out into the middle of a busy road whenever I feel like it. I work in public health – we’re safety freaks. In spite of my caution, I frequently find myself standing like a deer in headlights, face to face with a car careening toward me like a bat out of hell. I remain there, dumfounded, reminding my would-be manslaughter that the walk signal is on, or that I’m in the middle of a clearly designated crosswalk. I hear all kinds of obscenities in return. My roommate once had a man get out of the car and shout, “What’s it gonna be lie to be right and dead?”. I’ve never had anything that drastic occur, but I wouldn’t be the least be surprised if it were to happen. Drivers in this city are egomaniacal bullies with reckless disregard for the lives of us lowly pedestrians. It’s bad enough that they refuse to acknowledge the existence of crosswalks, traffic lights, and other institutions of safety and order. But they add insult to injury by accusing ME of wrongdoing, when I’m clearly a) at the mercy of their death machines and b) a damn good upstanding citizen because I’m not polluting the air or supporting terrorist oil regimes. So put that in your exhaust pipe and smoke it, drivers.

I’m not sure what it is about D.C. in particular that makes the drivers so selfish and sadistic. I imagine it’s simply a byproduct of the general mentality of people in this city – a delusion of grandeur that they are so important that they must get where they’re going immediately, no matter whom they squish along the way. Glued to their blackberries (even while driving), they push their way around with wanton neglect for the safety of others. They can’t be bothered by crosswalks and traffic lights – they can afford high-powered attorneys to get them acquitted should they happen to commit vehicular homicide. Global warming? Terrorism? Oil dependency? These issues pale in comparison with the immediate comfort and convenience of self-anointed VIPs in the District of Columbia.

Another reason I surmise that people insist in driving in this scalable metropolis is that they are simply fat and lazy. This problem is not just endemic to the District of Columbia, it is a plague affecting our entire nation. One need look no farther than the fanny-pack clad tourists littering our Metro system (and I thank them for at least using public transit instead of renting cars) or grazing about the Pentagon City Mall to realize that America is morbidly obese. It’s a Catch 22 – they drive because they are fat, and thus they never lose weight because they don’t get off their fat asses to walk. Pretty soon they’ll all be flying around in lounge chairs with computers granting their every wish, ala Wall E. I can’t even imagine how urban planners will respond to this new traffic conundrum, but I know healthy, earth-loving pedestrians like me are going to have to look more than 2 ways when crossing the streets.

Here are the morals I’d like you to take away from this post, if you care to derive any valuable message. If you drive in D.C., take a serious inventory of your life and determine if you are driving out of necessity, ego, or laziness. If either of the later are the case, STOP DRIVING!!! You will save yourself some money, and get some much needed exercise. If you absolutely need to drive in D.C., please calm the fuck down. Put on NPR, classical music, smooth jazz – whatever it takes to reduce your unfounded angst. Observe crosswalks and traffic lights, and be patient as we pedestrians cross the street. After all, we’re saving your lives with our carbon neutrality.

And if you’re a fellow pedestrian like me, keep on shaking your ass. But watch yourself.

Back to School Special

2008-09-19T23:23:00.002-04:00

On Wednesday evening, I did something I hadn’t done in 1 year and 3 months. I went to school.

Despite having obtained a Master’s Degree in June 2007, I have set on a masochistic course to purse a Ph.D in Public Health. The series of events and realizations that led to that decision are another story for another time. But essentially, in order prepare myself for Ph.D programs in my concentration (Health Economics and Health Policy), I need to brush up on my math. So I enrolled in the Math for Economists class at the USDA graduate school.

In the spirit of math, instead of giving you a verbal narration of my experience, I’ll give you a count:

Number of people in the class: 30
Number of people dressed in anything other than a suit or Ann Taylor “business casual” ensemble: 2 (myself and Turk’s friend John)
Number of Ben Bernake jokes made by professor: 1
Number of courtesy laughs in response to said Ben Bernake joke: 30
Number of AIG jokes made by professor: 1
Number of courtesy laughs in response to said AIG joke: 29 (I really don’t think, “If only the folks at AIG had remembered the National Income equation” is an amusing or even remotely relevant comment about America’s current financial woes)
Number of times douchebag at my table’s Blackberry vibrated during the class: 4
Number of times douchebag responded to Blackberry vibration via text message: 4
Number of times I glared at the douchebag: 5 (one was just for shits and giggles).
Number of beers I had after class to recover from the stereotypical D.C. self-aggrandizing masturbation fest: 3.25 (I drank some of my boyfriend’s while he was in the bathroom)

Rosslyn is the worst station on any Metro, in any city, in any country

2008-09-12T21:25:00.007-04:00

Well, it's official. I'm no longer a DC resident. That certainly doesn't mean I have to stop bitching, though. In fact, now that I live in Ballston, I'll have even more to bitch about (in a thinly veiled attempt to mask the fact that I'm rapidly becoming everything I hate). I'll skip all the usual "OMG NoVa IS FOR DOUCHEBAGS" stuff -- not that it's not mostly true -- and get right to the point. Rosslyn Metro station is perhaps the worst place on earth. And I say that as a person who has lived Uzbekistan (no offense to my Uzbeks bros). All that is unholy emanates from the subterranean dungeon that is Rosslyn. If I have to transfer trains here every morning and afternoon for the rest of my days in DC, then the chances of me killing someone are higher than the chances of Bristol Palin's marriage ending quickly and painfully (oh sorry, is Bristol still off limits?). And murder is only the second most likely scenario, the first being me committing seppuku.

Why? Rosslyn station never has more than one working escalator at any given time. Fools are tripping all over themselves running both ways. Once you manage to get to your transfer platform without getting trampled, then comes the arduous task of actually getting on the train. Most of the time, trains are spaced just far enough apart that every car will be packed to the brim with a sweaty, smelly clusterfuck of bodies. You will never get more than two inches of personal space. There is no air on any of the cars, either -- you'll breath only the stale exhalations of other passengers. Cars will be heated during the summer and air conditioned during the winter.

And the act of boarding the train is truly a test of one's mettle. It's where people really show what they're made of. There are two types of people at Rosslyn: the Douche Corridor (Courthouse/Clarendon/Va. Square/Ballston) folks who OMG HAVE TO GET ON THE TRAIN ASAP SO THEY CAN GET TO THE GYM EARLY ENOUGH TO FINISH CARDIO AND THEIR YOGA CLASS IN TIME TO START GETTING WASTED BY 7, and then there's the Pentagon Patriarchs whose TIME IS MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOURS and who have been SHOVING PUNKS LIKE YOU TO GET ON THE METRO FOR 30 YEARS. Either group is just as likely to spout catty, passive-aggressive shit at you if you deter their mission to board THIS FUCKING ORANGE LINE TRAIN RIGHT FUCKING NOW. Anyone who's ever tried to transfer at Rosslyn during rush hour knows exactly what I'm talking about. Unless you're one of those people, in which case you're fucking clueless.

I rode the Metro for the first week I was out here, and then I realized it was better for my health and the health of those around me if I never see that station again between the hour of 7:30-9:30am and 4:30-6:30pm. Fuck that shit. I'm taking the bus from now on. How else am I supposed to get to the gym before those Rosslyn suckers show up and take all the ellipticals?

Now that I have that off my chest, a few random notes:

1. Thanks again to The Sober Pundit for her witty and insightful political commentary and for holding down the fort while I was sans cable and internets.
2. Keep an eye out for a site revamp. We're hoping to make some pretty substantial changes to the layout soon, and we think you'll like it.
3. Buy the new Metallica album. Shameless plug, I know, but seriously... If you've ever liked any of their stuff, you owe yourself a trip to the record shop to pick up Death Magnetic. And if you don't like them, that's fine -- to each his own, but I don't want to hear it.

Where's our review of McCain's speech?

2008-09-06T12:29:00.006-04:00

I don't know about Turk or El Braixan, but I thought McCain's speech was such a snoozer that I don't think it warrants comment. Frankly, this "sober" pundit got drunk with her boyfriend and his roommate playing a drinking game where we had to guzzle some beer each time McCain said, "My friends" or "Warshington", and every time the crowd chanted "U.S.A.!" In the course of my hangover yesterday, I heard mixed reviews. But I doubt anything could compare to the rousing and inspirational speech Obama gave last week. All I know is that I can't wait for the debates!

By the way, my cat wrote an excellent guest piece on my friend's insightful and hillarious blog, Kitties and Boobies. Check it out!

4 reasons why Sarah Palin needs to get bitch-slapped with an Alaskan salmon

2008-09-03T21:01:00.007-04:00

O.K., Sarah Palin's daughter is off limits. But she's not. She's a public official, and now in line for the 2nd highest political office in the United States. So let's discuss the various reasons why she's a heinous succubus beast from hell:

1) She's a bad mother. I'm not talking about the fact that her daughter got pregnant - that's a private issue over which the public and the government should have no say. However, she knowingly subjected her already vulnerable 17-year old daughter to the spotlight by agreeing to be on McCain's ticket. I guess her own fame and fortune are more important than her daughter's welfare and happiness. I feel sorry for Bristol, especially because her baby daddy is clearly an asshat. The last thing she needs is media scrutiny, for which she has her opportunist mother to thank.

2) She's a bad governor. She strong armed the Alaska public safety commissioner into firing her ex brother-in-law, then fired him because he wouldn't capitulate to her unreasonable demands. Hell hath no fury like the governor-sister of a woman scorned! Can't Palin try just once to not set the women's rights movement back a few decades by making her politics personal, and portraying female leaders as vengeful bitches.

3) She's a bad mayor. Despite John McCain and Sarah Palin's public fulmination of pork barrel spending, Palin made sure to bring home the bacon to her Alaska home of 6700. She secured over $27 million in earmarks for wee Wasalia, Alaska. What the Christ could that town possibly need that's worth $27 million? All of the big cities in which I've resided (Philadelphia, Los Angeles, Washington D.C.) would shit bricks for that kind of money, and then use those bricks to build schools, health clinics, and other resources that would benefit far more people than the lucky few in her podunk hometown.

4) She's a bad person. She broke the news about her daughter's pregnancy while millions were fleeing the Gulf Coast in fear of another Hurricane Katrina. She thought the scandal would fall by the wayside. Well it didn't, and she should be ashamed for malevolently taking advantage of the plight of poor hurricane victims. And did you watch her speech? It was, as my friend Alexa describes, "nails on chalkboard." She said absolutely nothing of substance and instead spouted nasty insults about Barack Obama. I'm not saying the opponents shouldn't criticize one another, but there's a way to do it tastefully and constructively, and instead Sarah Palin chose to squawk like a pink monkey bird. She reminds me of a teacher I had in grade school, who was more concerned with flirting with the male students and fathers than teaching the class, and who despite my being the smartest and best behaved student in the class, still found a reason to give me detention. Bitch. Incidentally, this teacher got pregnant out of wedlock and was forced to marry the father in order to maintain her post at the Catholic school.

So let's review: Bad mother, bad governor, bad mayor, and bad person...and we're supposed to let her be a heartbeat away from the presidency, when the presidential candidate is probably hanging on by a heartbeat? I think America deserves better.

***Update: After referring to Sarah Palin as a succubus, I thought of the Succubus episode of South Park. Stan and Kyle rescue Chef from the clutch of the demon by singing her theme song "There's Got to Be a Morning After", backward. I wonder if we can do the same to defeat Sarah Palin. Who wants to attend her next rally in the D.C. area to give it a shot?

Obama's Speech: The Good, The Bad, and The CHEESY

2008-08-29T12:00:00.004-04:00

The Good:

Overall I think he did an excellent job. My main reservation about Obama has been my impression that he’s all talk, all pomp and circumstance, and little substance. Last night he delivered an address that was policy-specific, insightful, thorough, and inspirational. He underscored McCain’s weaknesses without sounding rancorous, and drew a sharp contrast between his vision and a potential McCain presidency. He was eloquent (except for a few flubs, but nobody is perfect) but not bombastic. He was genuine and down to earth, and convinced me that he would be a compassionate and competent president. I was drinking Blue Moon, but it tasted like Kool Aid. I’m one of them. I love Obama.

Here are some other highlights, and random observations:

The shout out to Hillary was a nice gesture, especially right at the beginning of his speech. Hopefully he was able to mollify even the most bitter of Hillary holdouts.
He used “her” as a pronoun when discussing the challenge of sending kids to school.
Sasha Obama is so kidnapably cute!
He wants to cut government programs that don’t work and streamline bureaucracy – a libertarian wet dream! I love that he has the balls to not make a typical knee-jerk liberal, blanket defense of every public service program.
Tax cuts! Yay! More fodder for me and my fellow libertarians.
End our oil addiction – real solutions, not band-aids. We need oil rehab, not oil enablers like John McCain. And incentivizing alternative energy production is totally in keeping with the market system we all love and cherish as Americans.
He spoke of having the “temperament” and judgment to conduct foreign policy. Not only did that brilliantly take the focus away from experience and onto pure competence, it was a subtle double entendre. READ: McCain has a temper, and is a bat-shit crazy curmudgeon.
Vets, vets, and more vets. I love vets, not just because the VA pays roughly 1/3 of my salary, but because they are the one group in America that clearly deserve appreciation from our government but are woefully underserved.
“Patriotism has no party. I love this country, and so does John McCain, and so do you!” Oh yeah, we’re gonna have a 300 million-way with America.

The Bad:

When it comes to health care, Barack seems to think that healthcare companies arbitrarily “discriminate” against the ill. Truthfully, any company is going to want to protect itself from adverse selection by having a diverse mix of patients, so that the healthy can pay for the sick. That’s how health insurance works – just like care insurance. When employers provide health care, the risk is automatically pooled because they have a mix of people brought together on random factors other than health status. A typical workplace will have adequate risk spread to keep premiums low, and the power to negotiate with insurers. The problem is that not all employers offer health insurance, and unemployment is on the rise. Then we get into the individual market, where it’s essentially a free-for-all. Companies have an incentive to keep out sick patients so they don’t go out of business, while relatively healthy people (especially young people) choose not to purchase insurance, because they think they’re invincible. There aren’t “healthy” people to pay for the “sick”. So Obama can’t forcibly “end healthcare discrimination”, without having mandates in place to force the healthy people to enter the risk pool, and thus far he hasn’t explicitly supported an individual mandate. Furthermore, we must continue to support tax breaks for employers offering insurance since this is the most sensible means of providing insurance. I heard nothing about this in Obama’s Plan. Finally, he said little, and his plans says little about reducing health care costs, which are primarily driven by technology. If we keep adopting new procedures, machines, and medicines, with little therapeutic improvement over previous treatments, we’re not going to get a good return on investment. The trick is to find a way to place stricter standards on technology adaptation while still encouraging innovation in the market. I don’t purport to have all the answers, but I think the president ought to. Nonetheless, I have more confidence in Obama’s ability and willingness to tackle this problem constructively.
“I stood up and opposed this war (In Iraq).” From where, your living room couch? You weren’t IN the Senate yet and didn’t have a vote. I can picture the situation:
Barack (knocking over a ball of popcorn as he rises from the couch): I oppose this war!
Michelle: That’s nice honey. Can you take out the trash
Producer to Cameraman, Producer to Cameraman, show more white people! (it’s the exact opposite of the conversations that go on between the two at the GOP convention.

The Cheesy:

The Music. U2? Add them to Bruce Springsteen and John Mellencamp as intolerable artists for politics. It’s not that I don’t like these artists (except Mellencamp – he sucks) – I have every U2 album, and a significant percentage of Bruce’s library as well. It’s just that their music deserves better than becoming the hackneyed entrance and exit music for pandering politicians. Are there seriously NO people on your staff than can pick something more original? I saw Obama’s favorite song list, and it included Nina Simone and The Fugees. Either of those selections would have been refreshing. What the shit was that country song they played after Obama finished? It was so anticlimactic, not to mention CHEESY!!! AND FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, WHEN ARE PEOPLE GOING TO REALIZE THAT BORN IN THE USA IS NOT A PATRIOTIC TRIBUTE TO AMERICA BUT A STINGING CRITICISM OF THE WAR IN VIETNAM?!?! LISTEN TO THE GODDAMN LYRICS OF THE SONGS YOU CHOOSE TO PLAY!!! Here are a few selections that would have been more inspirational, appropriate, or at least humorously corny:

The Times, They Are A Changin’ – Bob Dylan (would have fit nicely with the WHOLE FUCKING THEME OF OBAMA’S CAMPAIGN as well)
Work That – Mary J. Blige
Live To Win – Paul Stanley
You’ve Got the Touch, from the Transformers Soundtrack (the 80s cartoon, not the crap ass action flick with Shia LaDouche)
Pretty much anything from the Top Gun Soundtrack
Ditto for Karate Kid
Ditto Rocky
Flashdance…What a Feeling – Irena Cara

Is it just me, or is Joe Biden actually made of cheese? He’s got that pig-in-shit-eating grin that frankly creeps me out.
Did the Obama women really color coordinate? I love pink, but to quote Sally Field’s character from Steel Magnolias, “It looks like the whole place was doused in Pepto Bismal.”
The “grand finale” was just awkward. At least balloons would have masked some of the uncomfortable moments, like when all of a sudden there were toilet-paper-esque streamers on the back stage, and all of a sudden the music went from country to something sounding like the theme from Jaws. Should Obama and Biden hug? Will that seem too gay? Michelle and Jill were holding hands pretty tightly, as if they don’t know what else to do. Wave to the audience. Wait we’re out of family order. Okay bring in the Biden family. Wait there’s too many. Okay you know what, let’s just do Barack, Michelle, Joe, and Jill. Okay. Now let’s, um, pray, yeah, prayer is awesome, everyone loves prayer! Of course I realize that no convention can be perfect. But maybe if Obama had picked his VP earlier they would have worked out the awkward body language. Maybe if there were some more hip staff, the music wouldn’t have sounded so corny.

The most important thing is, Obama nailed it, and McCain has his work cut out for him next week. He gave us a nice indication of what he has in store by a) trying to steal Obama's thunder and pick his VP the day after Obama's rousing speech, and b) pick a woman, assuming that Hillary supporters are willing to forgo freedom of choice and economic opportunity and hop on his boring bandwagon, which probably serves cinnamon tea instead of Kool-Aid. I can't wait to see how much these asshats make me vomit and/or throw pillows at the television next week.

Turk's Brief and Superficial Reaction to Obama's DNC Speech

2008-08-29T09:49:00.012-04:00

They're coming to shut off my interwebz for the move so I have to do this quick. I just wanted to throw out a few of my reactions to last night's speech.

First off, let me just say, I can totally smell what Barack is cookin'. This was probably the most electrfying speech I've seen since I began to care about politics. I realized a few minutes into the speech that, for the first time in my political cognizance, we're going to have a president I actually like. No more whining about choosing the "lesser of two evils" in the general election. I'm legitimately excited about BHO.

As for the speech itself, what can I say that hasn't already been said by thousands of pundits and superior blogs? I was actually really impressed with how awkwardly he thanked the raucous crowd at the beginning. It showed a human side of him. This guy isn't an elitist. And you know what? As cheesy as it sounds, he just looks presidential.

There was a lot of good stuff in this speech, but I don't have enough time to really discuss it all. I'll just say that I loved his thoughts on alternative fuels and oil independence... he acknowledges that we can't invest all of our time and money on just one alternative like ethanol. That kind of progressive thought from a president is exactly what we need if we're going to actually do something about the energy crisis. I also LOVED his comment that government "can't turn off the television for you." Finally, a presidential candidate has the compassion to call for a helpful government while still having the balls to call for some personal responsibility.

Just a few random thoughts:
- I hope his plan to cut taxes for 95% of working families doesn't turn into a "Read my lips..." kind of moment
- was "8 is enough" a sitcom reference or something that I missed?
- Did he really have to call out Cleveland about gang violence in his section about gun control? Come on Barack. What about Detroit? LA? Chicago? Whatevs. I know you didn't mean anything personal, big guy ;-)
- Finally, what the fuck was with that music after the speech? It transitioned from some hillbilly country crap to some kind of "Sum of All Fears" orchestration. I expected Harrison Ford to run out at any second screaming "WE NEED TO GET THE PRESIDENT OUT OF HERE."

Anyway, I gotta run. Erin will be on later with her much more eloquent and insightful analysis.

Brief and Superficial Analysis of DNC Convention Day 3

2008-08-28T11:17:00.005-04:00

Beau Biden: I'd hit that.

Joe Biden: The transcript of his speech was excellent, so why is that I couldn't bear watching it in person and instead flipped back and forth between that and the season finale of Shear Genius? I guess it was the fact that I have an intense aversion to John Mellencamp, especially after that smarmy philandering bastard John Edwards exploited his music in his failed campaign for the presidency. And then to end with a Bruce Springsteen song written about 9/11? Are you kidding me? I realize you're 65 years old, Senator B, but surely one of those 87 grandchildren of yours could have tuned you in to something more hip.

Obama's "surprise" appearance: That was about as "unscripted" as an episode of The Hills. Come on, seriously? A REAL suprise would have been New Mexico governor Bill Richardson riding on a unicyle, wearing an Uncle Sam hat, and juggling bald eagle eggs. And it would have been far more entertaining.

The Democrats should have held this convention in Wisconsin instead of Colorado, 'cuz it's CHEESY!!!

A Night Out with the Nats

2008-08-28T10:50:00.011-04:00

There's something to be said about watching America's pastime in the nation's capital. that something is that it sucks. The Nationals are, not surprisingly, a league worst 48-85, well on their way to losing 100 games. Thank God I don't have any ties to this team other than that I'm a transient DC citizen.

This team is abysmal, just absolutely abysmal. Locals will tell you it's been injuries that have claimed the Nats' season, but injuries are only part of it. Part of it is the failure of highly-touted youngsters, like Ryan Zimmerman and Nick Johnson, to stay healthy and produce at expected levels. But a larger part of it is inept management. This is the team that failed to trade a red-hot Dmitri Young at his (fluky) peak last year for some solid prospects and did the same with Alfonso Soriano the year before. This isn't the place for in-depth baseball analysis -- though I'd be happy to provide links to some great sites if anyone is interested -- but suffice it to say that the Nats are awful now and have no realistic chance of being good in the next five years. I mean, my Tribe has been disappointing this year but hey, at least we've got a bright future. And this guy:

But I digress. Regardless of how bad the Nats are, it's always a good time at Nationals Park. The new stadium is unfortunately a bit sterile and not exactly the most aesthetically pleasing place, but it's comfortable and the amenities are great. Food options are bountiful and there's a great variety, from Hard Times 5-way Chili Mac to my personal fave, the Ben's Chili Bowl loaded half-smoke, available at every hot dog stand in the park. Prices are high, but the variety makes for a good experience.

A good experience, that is unless you get screwed out of catching a foul ball by some soulless baby boomer. The ball was hit about five feet to the right of my seat up in right field foul territory, and I had a bead on it the whole way down. Hit by Russel Martin, too -- teh best young catcher in MLB. It smashed directly into this tubby boomer's aluminum bottle of Bud, which was glorious, and rolled on the ground behind his seat. Unfortunately, his grubby sausage fingers outclassed my hand as we fought for the ball. I ended up with nothing but a dirty look from him and his houndstooth jacket-clad d-bag buddy and a giant welt on my shin from slamming into the guard rail in my futile attempt. I watched him as he snapped photos of the ball and the dented beer can and texted his buddies on his two his BlackBerries throughout the remainder of the game. Whatevs. That guy probably hasn't seen his children in months, and catching that ball was the closest he's had to a real feeling since he woke up half-naked and hungover the day after graduation from law school.

But I digress from my digression. Despite the acrid play of the Nationals, a trip to the game is still well worth it. The park is convenient to get to via Metro, and it's fun watching the surrounding Navy Yard area gentrify around it. Don't let the prices scare you away from trying some of the best ballpark food around, as you actually get a pretty good deal, relatively, for your cash. Tickets are reasonable, and there are few bad seats in the house. So go check it out before the season ends. And who knows; maybe they can rattle of 30 straight and make the post-season. Though that's assuming you actually go to root for them rather than just drunkenly taunt the opposing team.

Also! Thanks to Erin for covering the DNC while I was out stuffing my face and taunting Casey Blake.

FLILF and FDILF

2008-08-27T11:54:00.007-04:00

Before you accuse this post of being sexist, keep in mind that the female, feminist, heterosexual correspondent of this blog is the one writing it.

With all the serious topics being discussed at the Democratic Convention, I think it's time we take a step back for a minute and appreciate the fineness that is the Democratic ladies.

Say what you will about Michelle Obama's speech Monday, but one thing is for certain: She is HAWT!!! Cindy McCain is a botox-saturated washed-out hag. Michelle, on the other hand, is all natural, and all beautiful. My co-author Phil, in less graceful terms, declares, "Only the most unspeakable acts come to mind when I think of Michelle Obama." I wouldn't go THAT far, but we agree that Michelle is one foxy woman who deserves to be America's FLILF.

And who could pretend to digest Hillary Clinton's inspirational speech last night without first taking a moment to ogle former FDILF Chelsea. Girlfriend is banging! Her awkward Amy Carter days are ancient history. As my boyfriend opined, "She's really grown into herself". Phil informed me this morning, "I wanna holla at that bitch." My buddy Jeff's G-chat status message last night summed it up perfectly: "Damn, Chelsea fiiiiiiiiiiine!"

Make no mistake, this is a very important election, the outcome of which will have serious consequences for both America and the world. But while you're considering all the critical issues at hand, it's perfectly fine to be human and drool over some pretty ladies. Of course the same goes for the sexy men, who will take the stage tonight and tomorrow.

Thursday's post: Damn, Joe Biden is Delawaring that suit.

Friday: Obama can be my commander in briefs!

ADDENDUM: I just wanted to give some mad props to Erin for handling that post with such class. My thoughts wouldn't possibly be clear enough to write a coherent post about Michelle and Chelsea. Swoon.

~ Turk

Obiden

2008-08-25T15:56:00.002-04:00

This is my first presidential race in the District of Columbia, which is infamous for its rabid political junkies, Hillrats, and media pundits foaming at the mouth to get a piece of the action. With their mere 3 electoral votes, however, these fanatics must feed their obsession by networking with (and/or fellating) people “in the know”, and talking about it incessantly on their blogs. Recognizing this insatiable appetite for inside information, Barak Obama chose to send his supporters a text message at 3 AM EST Saturday morning announcing his selection of Joe Biden as his running mate. I’m sure the Late Night Shots crowd prowling the streets of Georgetown was excited to receive this text among their slew of booty calls, though they probably had to squint and shut one eye to decipher the words in their state of drunkenness. At that’s assuming they didn’t already pass out on the street or in the home of a stranger, vomit drenching their popped-collar polos or Ann Taylor sundresses.

Me? I was fast asleep. I didn’t get the message until I turned on Headline news to watch their D-list Saturday morning anchor “accidentally” say “Obiden” – twice. Did I feel out of the loop? No, because I already knew Obama was going to choose Biden. I knew unofficially 2 ½ weeks ago, when my friend told me her boss (who is a Democratic Big Wig) told her that it was going to be Biden. I was incredulous at first, but the same friend confirmed the news to me last Tuesday. Of course she was emphatic about the information being kept a secret, and said, “You didn’t hear that from me ;)” I will still protect her identity by not naming her on this blog. But I assume if she told me, she told her boyfriend, and at least a few of her other friends. I in turn, though sworn to secrecy, told my assistant, my boyfriend, and a couple of my friends, who in turn told a few more people and so on and so forth. The point is that people in this town have big mouths and there’s no better chance of keeping a secret than there is of Larry Craig keeping his pants on in the Union Station mensroom.

So what about this Biden guy? I’m sure his Wikipedia page crashed several times over the weekend, and I also read this morning that his biography, which was published over a year ago, is now a best seller on Amazon. So I’m not going to repeat any details you’ve already read in those sources. I will tell you the following things about Joe Biden:

1) Joe Biden is a Senator from Delaware. I grew up in Pennsylvania, which is right on top of Delaware. We laugh at Delaware, and then travel there for tax free shopping and the occasional Rehoboth Beach excursion.
2) Delaware recently raised its toll on 1-95 from $3 to $4. That adds up if you travel back and forth between D.C. and Philly frequently, as my Dad must do when he drives me to and from my respective homes. At least he has an EZ pass now.
3) My friend once got out of a speeding ticket while he was going to law school in Delaware by claiming he knew Joe Biden. Cops like Joe Biden.
4) Joe Biden is “smart as hell” and a “damn good guy”, according to my Dad. Actually a lot of people seem to feel this way, and said so during the primaries. However this mysteriously didn’t translate into any votes.
5) Joe Biden is a vet, I think. Either way he has major foreign policy street cred, because he went to Georgia recently (not the one with peaches and plantations, the one with Russian tanks). I think he also went to Iraq. And he was the head of the Senate Foreign Relations committee. So I guess that sticks it to McCain who claims that if Obama is elected, the terrorists will win. I feel pretty confident that Biden can kick some terrorist ass, while Obama stays in the White House and sends text messages to his supporters detailing Biden’s ass-kicking endeavors.

Well that’s my educated, insightful analysis of the VP selection, as a resident of D.C. and a one time resident of the state on top on Biden’s state. I think this was a good move on Obama’s part, because Tim Kaine just slashed the budget in VA, which will leave many people unhappy in this supposed swing state, and Evan Bayh is boring and cornfed. So Go Obama-Biden, or shall I say, “Gobiden!”

Politicaltasticness

2008-08-25T12:52:00.012-04:00

A lot of my friends back home ask me about politics. They figure, since I live and work in DC, I've got inside connections more insightful opinions than they do sitting all the way up in Ohio. And now, I've got this sort-of-DC-themed blog, which is a great platform for bloviating about the sordid dealings in our nation's capital. But here's the thing: I pretty much couldn't care less about politics anymore.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm still going to vote, and I'm still going to read both candidate's platforms, examine their stances on issues, watch the conventions, etc., because I'm not a moron. But honestly, I think I may be the first person in the history of the United States to move to DC and become less interested in politics. And it's not like I've always been this way. I was a poli sci major and I campaigned pretty hard for Kerry in '04. But I think I totally shot my wad on that one. Since that election, and given the constant barrage of INSIDE INFO that is DC life, I've just gotten turned off. It's like, I love Ruby Tuesday. But if all I ate all day, everyday was Ruby Tuesday, I'd start to hate it (probably right around the time of my second or third quadruple bypass).

This little rant was spurred on by Obama's selection of Joe Biden as VP. Yeah, I got the text, and I knew who the people on the short list were, but I haven't been following it for every waking second of the past two months. The baseball trading deadline, now that was another story. I can tell you pretty much everything that went down and what it means for each MLB team that was involved in a deadline deal, and I can probably provide more in-depth commentary about it than most pundits can provide about the VP race.

But I digress. Politics is a major part of what fuels DC, so in the interest of keeping this blog in tune with the city, we've decided to invite our friend the Sober Pundit on as a political correspondent. Trust me, she's much more adept at breaking this stuff down than I am. And she's hella funny. She might make a few random posts here and there as well, so keep an eye out for her bemused rantings!

RE: On Michael Phelps...

2008-08-15T10:32:00.001-04:00

Whatever, I'd hit it.

On Michael Phelps...

2008-08-15T09:43:00.008-04:00

Yeah, I know, who doesn't want to be, am I right?! Geez. I know this isn't DC-related, but I feel like I have to take a stand here. What's the big deal with this guy? I mean, come on, I eat about 12,000 calories a day and I can swim (relatively) fast (for a fat kid) too! The dude's been on the cover of every SI and ESPN magazine I've gotten for the past year. I just couldn't care less. Wake me up when he learns how to hit Major League pitching or evade an NFL pass rush. Zzzzzzzzz...

EDIT: Also, the more I think about it, Michael Phelps is completely anti-American. He's totally stealing the spotlight from every other brave American athlete. AND he went to Michigan! How much worse can this guy get? Michael Phelps is a Communist. And so is anyone who cheers for him.

Restaurant Week, Part I: Restaurant Reviews from a Food Idiot

2008-08-14T10:25:00.037-04:00

This being my first full summer in DC, I was quite excited to hear about Restaurant Week. For those who don't know, Restaurant Week is a week in August where hundreds of DC restaurants offer a special menu at a set price of ~$20 for lunch and ~$35 for dinner. It's a fantastic opportunity to try out new, exotic or fancy places you wouldn't normally be willing to lighten your wallet for. Being the classic Rustbelt kid I am, I'm not generally one for upscale dining. You've seen that I can get snobby about beer, but when it comes to food, I tend to lean towards known quantities, places where I know I can get a nice juicy burger or pasta dish without taking too big a chunk out of my bank account. But that's what makes Restaurant Week so great, because it gives you an excuse to go outside of your food comfort zone and explore some of the great culinary options DC has to offer.

The first of two stops on our Restaurant Week expedition was Taberna Del Alabardero. How did it measure up?

Atmosphere

TDA, as I'll call it from here on, is a lovely, classical Spanish-themed restaurant Downtown just off of Farragut Square. The main dining room, as well as the side dining room where we were seated, is a striking, deep red color and the walls are lined with paintings and murals of historical figures and Spanish countryside. The seating is elegant, yet surprisingly comfortable thanks to the heavy, padded chairs. There is also a decent-sized outdoor seating area. Though I've never been to Spain, I was told this place could fit right in. From a neophyte's foodie's perspective, the place felt classy and upscale yet welcoming, and not overly stuffy.

Service

There were a several pros and cons about the service. Chairs were pulled out for the ladies, waiters were efficient and courteous, and our wine glasses were never empty! Perhaps, though, the waiters were a bit too efficient. We barely had a chance to finish a course of the meal before waiters swarmed the table to clear the plates. Perhaps that's the standard MO, but we certainly felt a bit rushed. Our reservations were for 8:30, and we spent a good hour talking after the entire meal was done, yet we still left the restaurant before 10:30. This I'm willing to chalk up to Restaurant Week, however, as I'm sure the waiters are trained to scramble so as to fit in as many reservations as possible.

Food/Drinks

Finally, the most important part. Per standard Restaurant Week etiquette, we were given about four or five choices for each course, printed on a special Restaurant Week menu. For starters, three us us ordered the gazpacho. Now, I've never had gazpacho. In Cleveland, someone presented with a bowl of gazpacho would probably wonder why the Spaghetti O's were strained out and someone forgot to microwave it. So, despite having no frame of reference, I really enjoyed it. It was zesty but not overpowering, and silky smooth as it went down. For the record, the Spanish-savvy folk I dined with agreed that the chilled soup was exceptional. The other person in our party ordered the house salad which I did not try, but looked delightful and was well-received.

For the main course, a selection of three fish dishes and three meat/poultry dishes was offered. Two members of our party ordered the roasted baby goat, which was fantastic. Again, never having had goat before, the only observations I can make are that it had a wonderful slow-roasted taste and a perfect, tender texture, almost like pulled pork. One person order the garlic chicken, which was also excellent. In terms of what you can do with chicken, it was top notch. Myself, I went with the Rockfish with Artichoke, Tomato and Spanish Sausage Sauté. I don't usually order fish, but, again, I wanted to go with something outside the norm. I was a little disappointed. The fish was presented with the scales intact, which I realize is probably standard for upscale places or whatever, but I found it a little off-putting. In terms of flavor, the fish was a little bland; without reading the description on the menu, I wouldn't have been able to tell if it was roasted, sauteed, baked, broiled, etc. The most flavorful things on my plate were the artichokes. I have to say I was still a bit hungry when I finished, and not just because I've got a large appetite -- others commented that the meal looked to be a bit lacking.

The dessert course was another foray into the unknown for me, as I had never had flan before. Sheltered, I know. It was good... I think. It was pretty standard gelatinous creme; subtle, yet sweet, and presented with a very tasty lemon icing (not sure if "icing" is the proper word, but close enough). I did not try the desserts the others ordered, but both the almond cake and strawberries seemed to go over well.

As for the wine, this is where I really show my lack of sophistication. I don't know a damn thing about wine. I know there's red and white. I know I've never drank any wine that cost more than $10 a bottle. I do know that I like the wine we had. Since I ordered fish, I went with the Jose Pariente Verdejo, one of the suggested white wines. To my surprise, it was delightful. It had a very distinct fruity taste, but with a kick that distinguished it from most of the wimpy, sweet whites I've ever had. The rest of the table drank the El Molinet Tempranillo Cabernet Sauvignon, which I found to be a bit too warm and harsh for my tastes, but was enjoyed by those who drank it.

Overall

As a total package, TDA is a fine dining experience. Though I ended up spending a bit more than I expected and was a little disappointed with my main course, the meal was, generally, a triumph. On a crude scale of 1-10, I'll call it an 7.5. It's certainly a worthwhile place to check out during Restaurant Week, though I don't know that I'd be inclined to visit again of my own accord. So I hope the review was helpful to some of you Restaurant Weekers. Stay tuned for the review of our next stop, The Prime Rib.

DC Beer Tour, Part I

2008-08-01T09:37:00.019-04:00

Enjoying unique beers is one of my favorite hobbies. Despite the fact that DC is kind of lacking in the regional craft beer arena, there are quite a few good places in the District that boast globe-spanning collections of robust, flavorful beers. I don't fancy myself a beer critic, but I figured it might be a good idea to chronicle my beer sampling adventures for those of you who may share my appreciation.

One of my favorite beer stops in DC is RFD. Owned by the same folks who own DC beer-lover staple The Brickskeller, RFD is located right in the heart of Chinatown, which makes it very convenient when stumbling back to the Metro after a few IPAs. The beer list is astounding, offering over 300 bottled beers from around the US and the world. Though I've never been to Brickskeller, it seems RFD has the advantage with 30-50 beers on tap compared to Brickskeller's almost exclusively bottled list. I've been there three or four times now, and I've never been disappointed with the beer. The food and the service, on the other hand, can leave a bit to be desired.

The menu features pretty standard bar food with a nod to "upscale" dining. Many of the dishes are made with some element of beer, which is unique in theory but nothing special in practice. Prices are a bit on the high side, considering the "meh" quality. But really, it's a beer place, and you can never go wrong with a beer and a decent burger -- both of which are in abundance at RFD.

My only real beef with my latest RFD experience is the service. Last night, my curiosity was piqued by a beer I hadn't seen on their menu before, North Coast Red Seal Ale. Being a huge fan of pale ales, I asked the server what he thought of the beer. He described it to me as a "standard red ale, like an amber." First off, red ale and amber are not the same thing. Secondly, the Red Seal Ale was neither of those. Suspecting he didn't know what he was talking about, I ordered it anyway. It was, as expected, a pale ale. Pretty good, nice and hoppy, but not too complex -- nothing to write home about. Anyway, the point is, if I'm going to a specialty beer place, the server should at least have a clue what they're selling. I know that sounds snobby, but it's not an unreasonable demand. Of course you can't expect them to know every beer on the list, but you'd think they would at least know the difference between types of beers well enough to recommend things. That said, this may have been a one-time thing, as I've certainly had knowledgeable servers at RFD in the past.

As for the physical location, the atmosphere is a bit lacking. It's somewhat reminiscent of a cafeteria, only littered with banners and posters and signs advertising beers of the world. It can attract rowdier kickball/softball crowds on occasion, but they are often relegated to the back patio and the indoor crowd is pretty laid back place.

If you're a fan of good beer, RFD should definitely be on your checklist of places to hit in the DC area.

One more thing, though. If I ever catch someone again in a place like RFD drinking Sam Adams Light, I will punch you and your entire party directly in the teeth. Just FYI. (I kid, I kid. But seriously, Sam Adams makes some good beers. If you're not ready to try more exotic imports or craft brews, at least grow some balls and try one of Sam's real brews.)

EDIT: DCist has alerted me to some disturbing news. We can only hope that was Miller Lite.

A Few of My Favorite Things

2008-07-30T11:28:00.020-04:00

I guess you could say that I get down on DC sometimes. I suppose I give off that vibe. But I love this city, I really do, and nothing makes me realize that as much as having out of town guests come to visit.

This past weekend, two of my buddies from Cleveland came down to hang out. Reluctant to do the "touristy" crap that is usually par for the course, we nonetheless ended up spending an eventful night in Adams Morgan and taking a good three or four mile walk around the city. (sidenote: Adams Morgan may be a wretched hive of fratboy scum and villainy, but there are a few gems to be found. Millie and Al's is fantastic, as long as you get there before the big rush. And a big shout-out goes to Marcus, the kick-ass bartender who poured us a free pitcher of High Life and free shots of Grand Marnier)

After recovering from Friday night and pondering the occurrences that likely will lead to our ban from Toledo Lounge (whatever, it sucks anyway), the guys from Cleveland decided they wanted an authentic DC lunch. So we went to Chipotle. In Dupont. The food was typical Chipotle, but the surroundings certainly made an impression on the out-of-towners. Eager for more culture, we departed the "restaurant" and took a walk. Turns out we ended up walking in a big square because I'm an idiot, but we saw some cool stuff, took some pics and eventually made our way to good ol' Abe and the rest of the monuments. Suffice it to say that this was by far my most fascinating trip to that area.

As we walked past the Great American Phallus, we heard an auctioneer-like voice mumbling gibberish punctuated by loud bursts of "JESUS" and "SALVATION." To our immediate left was some giant, bald emeffer with a bow tie rambling on about how everyone's gonna burn in hell as one of his lackeys (similarly buff and moronic-looking) accentuated baldy's preaching with more coherent sentences about eternal damnation. Here's a rough sketch of baldy:

So my buddy Josh, who was an altar boy for 15 years, walks by this dude and starts chuckling. Lackey #1 turns to him and says: "YOU'RE ONLY LAUGHING BECAUSE YOU'RE SO FULL OF SIN." Josh continues to laugh. "YOU WON'T BE LAUGHING WHILE YOU'RE BURNING IN HELL." Josh's laughter grows. "I HOPE YOU DIE ON YOUR WAY HOME!!!"

Seriously. This "Christian" preacher wished death on a group of upstanding young gentlemen strolling around the capital of the free world. Then and now, I am at a loss for words. Emboldened, we continued our trek onward to the Smithsonian Metro Station.

Everyone in DC knows that Smithsonian Station is the fucking worst. There are more fanny packs per capita there than anywhere else in the world. Upon entering the hornet's nest, we encountered not one but two families literally carrying babies in strollers down the broken escalator one step at a time, blocking everyone else, rather than using the fucking elevator. The sight of these delusional yokels, combined with the 99 degree heat, was enough to incite a murderous passive-aggressiveness in all three of us. You know it's bad when even the out-of-towners start squawking "EXCUSE ME" as they pass tourists on the escalator.

So all told, I feel like the Clevelanders got their money's worth. I'm a pretty goddamned fantastic tour guide, if I do say so myself. But even when you don't have guests, it never hurts to spend an afternoon every once in a while meandering around our glorious city taking in a few of your favorite things.

There's Something Crawling in My Pants and Biting Me...

2008-07-16T11:07:00.011-04:00

And no, I'm not referring to one of my occasional forays into midget erotica. Rather, I'm reminiscing about the denouement of a "nice" evening at the Sculpture Garden for Jazz in the Garden last Friday.

Jazz in the Garden is a fantastic way to spend a Friday evening. That is if you love lugging blankets and picnic gear to work, or don't mind sitting straight on the grass/dirt/sticks surrounding the fountains. If you choose the latter, try this: grab a book on entomology and see if you can count the number of insect/arachnid species that crawl up your jeans/khakis/slacks/skirts/chaps over the course of the evening. Speaking of clothing, JITG is also a great place to go if you enjoy rubbing elbows with the most fashion-forward young urban professionals, such as the casual d-bag I noticed in a yellow LaCoste polo and orange chino shorts. Yes, all the finest, diverse sects of young, upper middle-class white America are represented at JITG.

Also! If you get bored of the people watching, there's actually jazz being played! I'm not much of a jazz critic, but I think it's usually some kind of hip-hop/electronica/world/death metal/indie/funk/klezmer/jazz fusion band lead by famous singer/songwriter/artist/DJ Alejandro Brahma Capreze Diego Escovedo Francois-Goldsteinberg or some shit. Who knows. I mean, I'm sure everyone at DCist's panties are totally wet over it, but I couldn't give less of a shit. I just went to hang out with friends, drink too much sangria, and be leered at by those on neighboring blankets that didn't appreciate our crudely refined sense of humor.

All in all, though, it's a decent evening. Even if you don't like jazz, it's worth it for the people watching and pretty surroundings. It's free if you bring stuff -- alcohol is "prohibited," but nobody gives a shit unless you're blatant -- and it's a great place to bring a date. If you decide not to pack a pic-a-nic basket, prepare yourself for $9 pulled-pork sammiches and $18 pitchers of sangria. The sangria's not bad, though, but a word to the wise: pace yourself, because if you don't, your pants will be a rancid amalgam of dirt, sangria and bug guts by 7:30. Not that I'd know anything about that...

Josh Hamilton is Ridiculous

2008-07-14T21:54:00.003-04:00

Ok, now I don't intend this to be a sports or baseball-related blog, and I really intended to sit down and write an honest to God post tonight but... goddamn.

I got sucked into watching the MLB Home Run Derby, mostly because I love baseball and I love the Indians and our golden boy, Grady Sizemore, was taking part. But as I write this, I just watched Josh Hamilton hit a record-setting 28 homers in the first round. The runners-up hit 8, 8, and 7 homers, just FYI.

So why does this matter? Well, Josh Hamilton was the first overall pick in the '99 MLB draft. After a brief stint in the minors, Josh fell into the blackest of downward spirals and spent the better portion of his multi-million dollar signing bonus on his various debilitating addictions to heroin, coke, meth and alcohol over the course of three years.

Eventually, Josh was able to leave it behind. Trust me, there's much more to the story than I can do justice to in a short blog post... the details would make your jaw drop. Check out the June 2, 2008 issue of Sports Illustrated if you're interested in more. Anyway, my point is this: after three years of living hell, Josh has returned and proven himself as one of the greatest talents at the highest level of professional baseball in the world. Perhaps one of the best raw talents in the history of the game, literally.

The Home Run Derby is supposed to be a fun little diversion, but this one was, for lack of a less hokey term, special. Watching Hamilton crush 500 foot homers like it was nothing in front of a crowd of 60,000 fans chanting his name at the last All Star Game in Yankee Stadium... the chills are still running up my spine.

For any cheesy story ever written about redemption, Josh Hamilton is the truth. Real, human inspiration. I can honestly say with no hesitation and not one bit of sarcasm that I am moved. I wish him a long and successful career; I know I'll be following it all the way.

Anyway, thanks for your patience with the pseudo sports-themed post. Brian and I will return tomorrow with your regularly scheduled snark (as soon as we have our apartment-seeking dreams crushed).

You Can't Just...

2008-07-09T20:46:00.009-04:00

Turk: Washington, DC is a city about obstruction, plain and simple. Even as I try to write this post, Brian has the fucking TV turned up to 11 so I can't concentrate. For a long time, both of us have mused that virtually anything you (try to) do in DC can and will be delayed, obstructed or turned into an all-out clusterfuck. You can't just... fill in the blank. You can't just go grab some lunch on a Sunday afternoon because the fucking Red Line is single tracking. You can't just enjoy a douche-free happy hour in Dupont. And, as we found out tonight, you can't just rent a reasonable apartment.

Braixan: Indeed. The city itself is, by its very nature, a complete clusterfuck. Never in my life have I lived someplace so thoroughly overgoverned and at the same time so completely incapable of getting its act together. This coming from a native of Durham, NC, where school board meetings ending in angry gangs of parents chanting "The board is blind every time!" are considered par for the course, and where every friendly discussion of local politics is a cloak masking a dagger of race hatred. Washington, DC, a not-exactly-huge city of 580,000 people, is policed by no fewer than 114 police agencies and broken down into eight different and disparate political entities, each subdivided into its own neighborhood councils pushing each other out of the way to suckle at the Great Federal Teat--the gigantic boob in the southeast corner of town holding court over the whole abominable nightmare. As a result, you can't just own a car, can't just go to a decent school, can't just ride the Metro on the weekend and be on time to where you're going...hell, can't just live safely in a middle-class neighborhood. But you WILL be fined for eating or playing music on Metro. This is the capital of Western Civilization, after all.

Turk: Let's not forget the fact that on the rare occasion you do decide to take part in the MASSIVE BOOM in Metro ridership, you will be swarmed by unruly crowds of transient hipsters, NOVAnite d-bags and clueless tourists trying their damnedest to make some sense out of this totally confusing fucking five line transit system. But every once in a while, something catches your eye or your ear and it makes you love everything this city is. Like the dude with the giant VATICAN HIDES PEDOPHILES sign who gets on at the Brookland stop and wanders between cars each stop, happily swinging his silent, cardboard protest. Or the repeated mispronunciation of "L'Enfant" (La-FONT) by Metro drivers. Or the persistent sound of sirens somewhere in the background, whether you're sipping a latte in Georgetown or chilling out across from the Big Chair in Anacostia. These small but precious details remind you that this city is important and therefore, goddammit, so are you.

Braixan: God. I AM fucking important, aren't I? In fact, very thing that convinced me I had to live here was a bomb threat that caused the evacuation of the Library of Congress while I was working on a research paper there. I knew, right then, right there, that if this city were good enough and important enough for someone to want to attack it, then dammit, I wanted in. That varnish wore off quickly once I actually moved here and confronted the Virginia suburbs (which have scarred me for life, and which warrant a long, angry, rambling diatribe that would put Fidel Castro to shame), and then the crime and the rats and mice and other bullshit that the District of Columbia has to offer. But in spite of all the threats to my own mental and physical well-being, I've finally found that this city has begun to feel...not like home...but like a place I'm able to call my own and where I somewhat successfully made that awkward transition from college student to proper adult. No, it's not New York, and much as everyone here wants it to be, it never will be. Let's face it. This city is awful. But it has mass transit in abundance, a good nightlife, ridiculously smart people (some of whom are even worth talking to), culture, and anything else you could ask for in a large city, all compressed into a convenient 62 square miles. For a smart, single twentysomething with moxy like me, it's a better place to be than 95 percent of these United States.

Turk: Right. And even for a dumb, rustbelt-bred, single twentysomething without moxy, it's still a pretty decent place to be. I mean hey, I love my hometown but let's face it; my political science degree would be even more worthless if I had stayed in Cleveland. Besides, without DC, I'd have to make things up to bitch about. This city is like a living, breathing dartboard, and we're all just the stupid drunks shooting for the bullseye but missing, accidentally spearing our friend in the arm and then falling over as we try unsuccessfully to high-five that same friend. And I fucking love it.