There has been much written about Barack Obama ability to harness the amazing and all-encompassing powers of the Internet in his campaign. After reading this extensive commentapalooza, I decided that John McCain is running the race in the style of the comments on Gawker (or AV Club or any other number of examples).
It’s the firsties-campaign: respond immediately with something snarky but empty, tear down any attempt at complex argument, and above all, treat every issue as Manichean. Some of the ads this week have been broadcast only when the cable networks talk about them. So, they’re not really ads, they’re comments.
At this point, instead of having JohnMcCain.com as the bumper at the end of these ads, it should just flash “pwned!” on the screen.
Sorry to email you out of the blue like this, but I’m a follower on your tumblr and was wondering if you could clarify something. You see, I’m kind of in the same predicament, having not been paid for a freelance piece since April, and I also have not seen Better Off Dead. Am I supposed to go to the offices and hold a boombox over my head or something to get paid?
If you want Time Out to pay you 30 days after publication, you’d best act like John Cusack in Grosse Point Blank by threatening to stab people in accounts payable with a pen.
“Considering the elaborate, prolonged, pundit-cockteasing Ravel’s Bolero buildup before announcement, I expected Obama to announce that he had chosen Broadway legend Patti LuPone as his running mate, or former Yankee skipper “fiery” Lou Pinella. Looooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”—Wolcott
“Why the hell did I ask a realtor to come over? Realtors don’t know anything about good food. Donald Trump is a realtor, and he thinks that the best food in the world is a filet mignon wrapped in bacon, served with mashed potatoes piped around it in a little circle that looks like white Hershey’s Kisses.”—Onstad
“As intense as the anticipation over Obama’s choice is, it pales next to the hubbub over whether McCain is going to tap Lieberman, who was Al Gore’s running mate in 2000. This would give Lieberman a unique niche in American history — one politician who was the vice-presidential nominee for both parties. We would speak of it with awe, like that story about the two-headed turtle in Brooklyn.”—Collins
“Today’s middle aged and old people— let’s put it that way— are not the same old people as they were when you were a little kid. You tend to think they are, but old people when you were a little kid were filled more with the World War II generation. They didn’t know what in the hell their children were doing, but through Watergate and everything they sort of gave into the culture. But now we have these new old people, and there’s something really sinister about them. They don’t seem to have any shame about forgoing all long-term planning for the society. They don’t have any shame about just blowing the whole load, and the people who are to inherit what comes next— well, people my age, I guess— will be in their 50s trying to clean up this mess. People younger than me, they’re the ones who are going to have to spend their lives actually doing that work.”—Berman
“There’s another option, if you’re killing time. The shop next door to Socarrat offers haircuts and shiatsu massage, and I remember what that meant when I was overseas in the army. I have a feeling it isn’t the same anymore, so I didn’t bother stopping in.”—Richman
“The trick is to give food that little twist. “Everybody has a quesadilla, but no one has a bruschetta quesadilla,” she said. That idea is still under development, but Applebee’s does have a quesadilla burger.”—NYT
“Startlingly, the food got much, much worse. Tuna mayo sushi—I re-ordered it as a hand-roll to make sure—contained without doubt the worst sushi ingredient I’ve ever tasted. It was seafood kibble, hard bits of grayish, tasteless fish. The waiter insisted it was yellowfin.”—Richman
reading through reminded me of from russia with buzz. mmmm.
The best part about this is that indeed there IS a real flavor graveyard at the Ben and Jerry’s factory in Waterbury. I have a photo somewhere in which I am kneeling in front of the tombstone for White Russian.
C’mon, NBC. Show Men’s Épée. It’s easiest to follow, there’s no right of way, no confusing target area, and no scary ladies running at each other full tilt as with the Women’s Sabre you broadcast yesterday.
I know the Americans get perennially routed so you can’t put together packages about who’s going to law school afterwards, but it’s not like there’s a great tradition in badminton or synchronized diving. Fencing’s been there since the first (modern) Olympics!
Rita Hayworth, Lucille Ball, Ann-Margaret, Gillian Anderson, Christina Hendricks, Shirley MacLaine, Molly Ringwald and even more women you probably thought were natural redheads but aren’t, on This Recording
Some of these really hurt! And some, I just had forgotten whether it was important to me. That means you, Gillian Anderson.
So long as you understand his line-in-the-sand distinction, the argument makes sense. So much of the appreciation of the Olympics really is a function of the backstories, the instant gratification, and the fleeting nature of the Games; this does align it fairly well with Reality TV.
Meanwhile, in his definition, fans of sports “enjoy history, enjoy context, enjoy the alternating joy and pain that come with following a team/player/franchise for decades on end.”
So: Olympics = athletics = Reality TV. The NFL = sports = …what, exactly? Star Trek? A Ken Burns miniseries? The Simpsons?
And baseball is a Victorian novel. Nothing else takes as long as a baseball season to resolve itself, to say nothing of a four-hour game. It’s from a pre-cable, pre-television era when there was little else to do except listen to the game and wait in line for soup, just like those doorstop novels were perfect for reading during an afternoon on the fainting couch.
Many restaurants are open on Tuesday nights, during which time they exchange food and service for payment. Considering the cost of rent in the East Village, this is something you might want to consider.
“One of the basic criticisms of Chris Carter and the series is that all the conspiracy mongering and backstory he created never managed to reach a satisfactory conclusion. After a certain point, it became impossible to keep track of the double-crosses and shadowy figures and “groups within groups,” and eventually the paranoia turned in on itself and became something dangerously close to camp. With a mythology this expansive, there needed to be a balance, a sense that behind all the madness and confusion rules were being followed. Without that balance, the whole thing becomes meaningless. Calvinball is a terrific game, but only for the players; to the rest of us, it’s just bad improv with somebody else’s stuffed tiger.”—AV Club
No, I’m not excited either. But driving around today I heard and advertisement for this little duo’s show in Bethel Woods, and I was disappointed that the tour itself didn’t have a name. Henceforth, I dub it the “Knee Deep in Pussy” tour. Or is “Get More Action Than We Should” better?
At this very momnt, there’s a line of tween girls snaking around Bryant Park, all waiting in line to see Jonas Brothers. Yes, I didn’t add the “the” on purpose. Yes, I’m ashamed that I have to know that. For work purposes, I swear!
“First of all, Zach, it isn’t 1981, and it’s not lunchtime at a school. Your sandwiches lack “jazz factor” (part of me wants to believe that you used to play in a band called that), and instead of baby carrots, try serving them with a Scotch balut egg or something. Use your brain. P.S.: Pesto is not a sandwich spread. You’re thinking of aïoli.”—Onstad
I’d just like to take a moment to thank all of you who reblogged/emailed me to launch fierce rebuttals to my vilification of the scone earlier today. Somehow, this navel gazing on my part led some girl to email her cousin who emailed her friend who is a lobbyist for big scone…something like that…ANYWAY, I’m happy to report that there is now, as we speak, a box of scones in route to me from a cafe owner in Birmingham, Alabama who swears that her scones can, I quote, “make a cobra fall in love with a mongoose,” whatever that means.
“A final point about tire inflation: This seems to me one of the very few times—perhaps the only one—that a presidential candidate suggested a way that I could save some money without personal sacrifice—or ballooning the federal deficit.”—Klein
As a valued customer who has booked an American Airlines ticket through Kayak.com or Sidestep.com over the past year, we would like to inform you that American Airlines fares are no longer being displayed on these sites. You may still find our content through many other meta-search engines for purchase through our award-winning web site, AA.com. Tickets already purchased remain valid for customers traveling on American.
Bizarre. Isn’t Kayak driving traffic to them?
They don’t wanna pay Kayak’s fees for driving the traffic to them—AA pays for the first click through to the site, and then again if the user actually buys tickets. It’s more a lovers quarrel between the two camps, as at the end of the day, AA still has to, you know, fill the seats. Still, it’s always important to watch what AA does because they are the only legacy carrier that hasn’t gone bankrupt. Plus, they were first on the whole charging for checked baggage thing.
“With Pedro, you understood, the guy threw gas too only he also had the sick change-up, looked just like the fastball until you swung 12 minutes before the ball arrived, plus he would change arm angles and every now and then he would throw a hard slider because he did not want to strike out batters, he wanted to have them committed to an asylum.”—Posnanski
“If I did like the Yankees, which I don’t, I’d have stopped liking them when they “renovated” the Stadium and turned it from a place with some personality into a generic facility that could be located in the Dallas suburbs. I admit that they never betrayed their fans the way the Dodger management did theirs, but to me they have always represented White Capitalist Imperialist Hegemony, even when I was ten.”—Hertzberg