AC/DC Strikes Deal With Wal-Mart To Distribute Their Next Album

http://tinyurl.com/3fk3hq

Fuck ‘em. That’s all that really needs to be said here. But if you want more, 

On Eight Belles, PETA, and…Pingback Spam?

Pingback spam, that’s a new one to me. I was just clearing the spam queue when I saw them: three entries marked as pingback spam. Some less than reputable blogs (one about carpet cleaning, no less) excerpt your entries and link back to them. While it’s said that there’s no such thing as bad publicity, this crap blows that right out the window.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about the Kentucky Derby yesterday. Great race, watched it on the DVR as soon as I got home. Eight Belles ran a strong race, but couldn’t keep Big Brown from taking the win by five lengths. Then tragedy struck, as the filly broke her front ankles after crossing the wire. There was nothing that could be done, and the first filly to make the field in nearly a decade had to be put down. Kudos to NBC for not showing the horse writhing in pain on the track, instead sticking with a static show of the equine ambulance blocking the view.

Of course, PETA decided to step in and accuse her jockey of mistreating her, stating that the ankles were broken even before she crossed the wire and calling for the jockey’s suspension and forfeiture of the purse. I’m not even going to dignify the rest of their ridiculous demands, but you can read the article if you want a laugh.

Okay PETA, where’s your medical evidence of this? If the ankles were broken in the stretch, how did the horse continue in full stride on a hard racing surface to the finish? I’ve never broken an ankle myself, but I have sprained mine on several occasions. And just walking on one of those is a chore and a half. Do horses have that much higher a tolerance of pain than us mere humans?

Shove it, PETA. Better yet, shovel it.

Oh, and props to Farkers OtherLittleGuy and Cyclometh for this exchange:

OtherLittleGuy: Now this is beating a dead horse.
Cyclometh: No, Big Brown beat a dead horse.

A bit dark, yeah. But admit it; you laughed.

Links:
PETA wants Eight Belles jockey suspended after filly’s death (Charlotte Observer)
In its normal, calm, and objective manner, PETA calls for the suspension of the jockey that rode Eight Belles before she collapsed (FARK.com)

Does the Kentucky Derby Really Need A Red Carpet?

Short answer, no. Long answer, no because the horses are going to just muddy it up. And if you need anything more than that, you’re an idiot. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

Sure, the Kentucky Derby is a famous horse race. And as such, celebrities are required to attend to make it seem that much bigger. But that doesn’t mean there should be a red carpet for them to walk on, or an entire hour of airtime on a major television network to showcase their arrivals. And there’s no need for Billy Bush to be involved, either.

Let’s take that last one a step further: there’s no need for Billy Bush, period. And not just because he’s a first cousin of the sitting President. (Which raises the interesting question of why anyone in showbusiness talks to him at all, coming from a family of Texas Republicans into Southern California, where a more liberal mindset is firmly entrenched). The guy’s goofy, but not in a charming way. Quoth the Wikipedia:

…Bush famously brought pizza backstage to the models (including Heidi Klum) at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show; he presented Colin Farrell with a post-menopausal stripper for his birthday at the premiere of Phone Booth; he asked Penélope Cruz if she was able to spell her boyfriend Matthew McConaughey’s last name (she could not); he asked Jennifer Lopez how she really feels about her buttocks; he asked Britney Spears whether Madonna or Colin Farrell was a better kisser; and he disguised himself as “Richard Broom” and faced Donald Trump at an audition for The Apprentice.

Billy, just because it seemed like a good idea at the time you proposed it, doesn’t mean you should actually go through with it.

Oh, and here’s a tip for anyone wishing to secure my support in their bid to win the Presidency this November: Keep Guantanamo Bay open, if only for the sole purpose of putting this guy where he belongs. And if you throw a few members of the current administration in there as well, that’s just icing on the cupcake.

Where are the tough questions?

In light of the debacle that was the April 16th ABC News Democratic Debate, I’d like to ask the tough questions that nobody is asking the candidates of either party.

• What are the candidates stances on monkeys?

• Do they find monkeys humorous, interesting, or both?

• What do they think of flinging poo?

• Is flinging poo funny as long as it doesn’t happen to them, or just plain disgusting?

• Are bananas something more than just a good source of potassium?

Senators, I await your responses.

Things That Need To Be Clicked: Savage Chickens

Link: Savage Chickens

As the story goes (at least according to creator Doug Savage), a young boy with a vivid imagination used to draw cartoons all the time. There was a platypus named Ed, a dead dog appropriately named Dead Dog Bob, and various other animals and superheroes. (Ed note: wonder if he ever combined the two?)

Time went by as it tends to do, and that young boy grew up as they tend to do. The not-so-young man found himself working in an office, where technology destroyed his penmanship and the creative spark of his youth. Or so he thought.

From some deep recess in his mind, the chickens began to manifest themselves on every malleable surface he found. One day, he decided enough was enough and gave the chickens a home: his pad of sticky notes. But of course, a square of paper with an adhesive surface does not provide adequate room for chickens to roam, so he built them a pen on the web, and Savage Chickens was born.

I ran across the chickens the other day thanks to Wil Wheaton’s blog. I’m a Trekkie, he’s a Trekkie, wouldn’t you like to be a Trekkie too? (Ed note: Wil is more than a Trekkie. He’s an actor, writer, Farker, geek, and a pretty good father too.) Someone sent him a heads up on a surefire way to tell if you are a Trekkie (I failed miserably, BTW) and I was hooked.

I can’t help but feel a kinship with Savage. I used to draw myself when I was younger. My proudest work was a more literal interpretation of “Peanuts” than the late Charles Schultz had created. They walked, they talked, threw out a punchline and that was it. No trick football punts, no kite-eating trees and no World War I flying aces were involved (just in case United Media’s legal department is reading this). As the years went by, I began to focus more on the written word. As computers became more affordable I left pen & paper altogether and began to hunker down in front of a keyboard, which worked out great for me since my penmanship was atrocious to begin with. No doodles have yet to spring forth from my hands, but now that I know what I’m up against, I can start looking out for them.

But enough about me. Why aren’t you already browsing through the Savage Chickens archives already?

Inconceivable!

CNN.com: Brain-damaged woman at center of Wal-Mart suit

Yes, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m a little late on this one, and that the situation has resolved itself thanks to the media pressure and public criticism. But this needs to stay out there. These lowlifes need to be held accountable for their reprehensible behavior. Not one more dime of our hard earned money should go into the hands of these greedy bastards. NOT ONE DIME!

One line from the company’s statement (and letter to Debbie’s husband) stands out in my mind:

Occasionally others help us step back and look at a situation in a different way. This is one of those times.

Really now? You ever take a look at all the lawsuits your company’s facing, from its own employees and wonder if someone or some group  is going to ride in on a white blue horse with khaki leggings and make you realize that something’s not right in your stores? You ever stop and think that the unions you’ve been fighting tooth and nail to keep away from you could be those “others” that are trying to help you take that step back and look at things in a different?

Of course not, that would be productive and make sense.

Why is Dan Dakich a Head Coach Again???

Gheorge: The Blog ran with it this morning. TBL blipped it this afternoon. Then Deadspin caught it.

But so far, only The Futon Report is asking the questions that need to be asked at this point:

HOW THE HELL DID DAN DAKICH GO FROM AN EXILED BOWLING GREEN STATE UNIVERSITY BASKETBALL COACH TO AN OBSCURE NON-COACHING BASKETBALL POSITION AT INDIANA TO ASSISTANT COACH OF INDIANA TO HEAD COACH OF A NATIONALLY RANKED DIVISION I BASKETBALL TEAM ALL IN LESS THAN 12 MONTHS…

(Above quote edited for space and sanity)

This shocking revelation has already broken one good blogger. How many more have to fall by the wayside before someone realizes the mistake they’re about to make and reanimates the corpse of Bobby Knight to right the Hoosiers’ ship…

Whadaya mean he’s not dead, just retired?

Nevermind about that last part.

Let’s Try Something Different This Valentine’s Day

Here’s a thought…

Standing in a local monument to consumerism today, I couldn’t help but notice the red, the pink, the stuffed, the floral, the cards, and the chocolates. Valentine’s Day has fallen upon us once again, and people are buying up these colorful trinkets, sugary confections and cardboard messages of love and affection by the armload.

But do we really need to spend all that money just to say something we should probably be saying to that certain someone every single day of the year? Sure the gesture will be appreciated by the other party (unless you’re leaving a Whitman’s Sampler for that someone you’re stalking…that’s just creepy, dude. Get some help), but that’s all it really is…a gesture. If your feelings for this person are strong enough, and/or you’ve taken a vow to love, honor and cherish ’til death do you part, then gestures are something you can do any time, anywhere, any day of the year.

This Valentine’s Day, let’s kick it up a notch. Let’s find a way to go out of our way to express those three little words that are becoming more and more meaningless in our society. Let’s find a way to show the person you’re saying those words to that you REALLY mean it, and will for the rest of your lives. And leave the stuffed animal on the shelf; it’s just going to end up in the kid’s toy box in a few years anyway.

Set Sail For The Land Of The Riff!

I’ve been in a pretty good mood the last few days, and I blame the crew of Cinematic Titanic.

In case you’ve been living underground in a secret lab, MST3K alumni Joel Hodgson, Trace Beaulieu, J. Elvis Weinstein, Frank Conniff and Mary Jo Pehl  decided to get together and dig up incredibly bad movies for the sole purpose of making fun of them in silhouette. The first entry in this new venue, The Oozing Skull (originally Brain of Blood) is out on DVD. And I have one! And it’s all goooooooooooood.

The inconsequential plot of the film involves the dying leader of a middle eastern nation who wants to live on. He solicits the help of a radical American doctor with a little person as a sidekick(stand) and nothing seems to go right after that. The brain ends up in the body of a simpleton disfigured by hillbillies, people die, the little guy laughs inappropriately, and the musical score fails to adequately convey the intensity of the story. On its own, the film is utterly forgettable even without the assistance of mind-altering substances. But with the addition of five very funny people and lines like “Autumn is brain harvest time for Dr. Trenton and his minions, ’cause Pepperidge Farm dismembers” and you end up with comedy gold. Or oil, whatever your preference for overpriced things you extract from the ground.

Cinematic Titanic: The Oozing Skull is available for $15.94  (plus tax where applicable) from EZTakes. Order Now!

Unnecessary Disclosure: I won’t make a single cent off your order.

MGM Inflicts Twice the Pain & Suffering in One Syndicated Deal!

Somehow, MGM has managed to get its hands on the distribution rights to a show called Gladiators 2000. It’s like the old-school American Gladiators (no Hulk Hogan, no Laila Ali, no childhood memories of Saturday afternoons parked in front of the TV sullied and raped by the remake), only it involved teenagers and attempted to infuse information about health and fitness so that stations could count it towards the federally-mandated 3 hours of educational programming they had to put on each week.

In short, it wasn’t all that good.

That’s not even the worst part about this. The host of Gladiators 2000 (because everything in the 90’s had to have “2000″ in the title…kinda like the 70’s version of Match Game) was a young up-and-comer who would go on to great success with a little show called American Idol.

That’s right kids…it was Brian Dunkelman Ryan Seacrest.

Ryan Seacrest, the guy who’s only marketable skill is transitioning from a karaoke wannabe to a Coca-Cola commercial break (even the other commercials are sponsored), will be available to stations across the country this fall. Because apparently American Idol, American Top 40, Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve starring Ryan Seacrest, Ryan Seacrest’s Super Bowl XLII Red Carpet Interviews featuring Ryan Seacrest, American Idol: Rewind (with 40% less Dunkelman per Seacrest’s contract), E! News about Ryan Seacrest delivered by Ryan Seacrest, the morning show on KISS FM in Los Angeles and gamma radiation insertion into your dreams is not enough exposure.

Fuck it, I got Cinematic Titanic on DVD. Who needs TV?