Dangerous Weekend

No, it's okay -- enter the weekend.

Six, Sick Six

On the eve of six hundred posts, I feel somewhat nostalgic, but also a tad bloated. Either one could be chicken flautas.

Entering the winter of my discontent, I remember the good times from the spring and summer of my discontent, and all the fine posts I made. You remember them too, right?

To quote the fine Oderus Urungus, nothing has changed here. We’re still the same, loveable, down to Earth kinda motherfuckers that fit you like a glove. Yeah, I said “we”, the royal we, us – because fractured personalities demand their own acknowledgement. Thankfully I can agree to whatever meal demands they make as part of their exclusive contracts to work on IOvUF – you feed one, you feed them all. But this isn’t about eating or split personalities, this is about commemorating milestones.

We stand on the shoulders of giants, but also on lesser individuals, because when it comes to wiping our dirty feet on people, we don’t discriminate. Other than our exacerbation, we could just as easily add “Talent Borrows, Genius Steals” to our banner. And maybe we will, but then we’d want to add all kinds of other pithy bits like “Down On The Upside”, “Beyond the Obvious” , or “I Am The Liquor”. But this isn’t about trailer parks or IQ, this is about paying homage.

Many people ask, “Famous M, how do you come up with the myriad stories and ideas you share on a near daily basis?”, to which I kindly answer by throwing an empty bottle at their head. But seeing as I’m mostly sober, I will share some of my favorite places, where lurking becomes inspiration, and resistance becomes strength. Some things just come to me, but I also suckle interweb teet to feed and redress the spin you fine folks may not realize covers the truth like film on pudding. But this isn’t about tapioca skin or Bowflex, this is, in no particular order, what makes Yours Famously tick.

Yahoo! News – my home page and basic launch point for what’s happening. It is by far the most diverse of the major news pages, and the easiest to navigate with simple click-and-link by topic. With a liberal amount of pictures for their stories, the foundation for my farcical analysis is simple to lay.

What Would Tyler Durden Do? – hands down the funniest, most vicious entertainment / celebrity blog out there (and appropriately named for it’s patron saint). One of my first stops of the day, not so much to see what’s breaking, but just to get into the right, nasty frame of mind.

Deus Ex Malcontent – another cornerstone point of interest. Chez takes his posting far further personally, but if you were a form heroin user with a heavy media background who recently had brain surgery, you’d have more to mine. Similar in tone to this fine blog, but with a more a more refined, intellectual touch. And his wife is a dreamy piece of ass.

Boing Boing – a more recent addition, this link dump also has brief explanations, pictures, and article excerpts. It covers a pretty wide swath of modern culture (technology, the arts, ), plus the oddball and the retro.

YouTube – as if it even needs mention, I wouldn’t have a single moving frame without them.

Death From Below – combing the interweb for an appropriate picture to correspond to their daily mp3 link, some of the more disturbing and outlandish images I find are there. Sure, the tunes are a little heavy on the rap / DJ side, but fanboys can find some rare tracks and remixes.

Monkeys For Helping – another oddity site with trippy clips, pix, and generally forgotten pieces of entertainment. And with good reason – mostly the bad ones that went into creating them.

DataWhat? – aside from hyping his former band or aping his sister site for new dads, cultural quips and dumped links end up here, ripe for the pickings.

I can think of about a dozen more sites that make the general rotation, but those consistently get hit…and now you can hit that shit too.

Evel Dead

With skill like this, it's a wonder Evel Knievel made it to 69.

Photo Magic

I'm pretty sure some of the JDate girls had this done to their pictures. I had no idea the CS3 version of Photoshop had a fat reduction button.

"Reveen" vs. Reveen

Ricky hates being called Reveen.

"It's not a cure, but it is useful as an addition to traditional medicine."

"I try to be a role model for kids around the park. If some kid wants to grow dope, they can come talk to me, instead of growing dope six or seven times through denial and error, they're going to get it right the first time and have some good dope."

Breathing

When a yoga instructor and masseuse like Idle Eyes recommends a new workout regimen, well, damn it, you get on board.

Jambi vs. Jambi

"But I would wish it all away
If I thought I'd lose you just one day"


"Help!"

Die! Die! Die!

Evil Dick, our favorite Oz-like puppetmaster experienced another irregular heartbeat as was headed for George Washington University hospital. Santa, did you already get my letter?

Diagnosed with a history of cardiovascular problems, this could be the kind of issue that permanently sidelines the vice president if it takes a turn for the worse better. I believe the irregularity doctors detected was the presence of an actual heart which squeezed off a singular pump, deeply nestled amongst his black organs. No word either if they found a soul within Dark Prince, or if he just fed on that of others.

With the power of prayer, this may be the last image we see before Evil Dick pitches over for a nice, cold dirt nap. Clutch and drop, hellspawn!

The Boys Of Sunnyvale

Rybot has been dishing out seasons of Trailer Park Boys to me, and the cult Canadian comedy is subtly hilarious. Filmed mockumentary style, the show is full of colorful, almost irredeemable characters like similarly black shows It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia and Arrested Development.

The show is centered on recidivist felons Ricky and Julian and their ongoing schemes to get rich and live the good life - which amounts to getting stoned and drunk. Julian, with drink always in hand, usually hatches the plans since Ricky, is self admittedly too stupid to articulate. They are joined by fellow park resident Bubbles, who, even with his telescoping glasses and questionable mental faculties, tends to be the smartest of the bunch. With the help of their lackeys Cory and Trevor, their plots never quite go as planned, but they surprisingly get out of most trouble.

Looking to get the boys thrown out of the park and arrested are park supervisor Mr. Lehey and his assistant Randy. Lehey is drunk just as often as the boys are, and Randy is always shirtless, exposing his cheeseburger built gut. The rest of the characters are equally colorful, from wannabe white rapper J-Roc to the Fonzie-lookalike nemesis of Cyrus, each playing important reoccurring roles in the series.

Like the aforementioned shows, their strength lies in the characters and references to their history. The formulaic network sitcom structure of stock jokes and archetypes pale in comparison, and while they are funny on their own, the callbacks and continued character nuances make for big laughs.

After seven seasons and a movie, a possible final run is rumored for 2008-09, but the bulk of the action is available on DVD.

Do I Detect A Hint Of Sarcasm?

Yes, the first week of online dating is almost at a close, and I am optimistic as usual.

A Curious Chain Of Events

Yes, you may recall some 44 years ago...

I do believe that Photoshop will be the true judge of history. Damn, Oswald rocked!

Fell On Black Days

Tomorrow is Black Friday, the beginning of the traditional holiday shopping season in the United States. Although the day has served as the unofficial beginning of the Christmas season at least since the start of the modern Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in 1924, the term "Black Friday" has been traced back only to the 1970s. "Black Friday" was originally so named because of the heavy traffic on that day, although most contemporary uses of the term refer instead to it as the beginning of the period in which retailers are in the black (i.e., turning a profit). It is not the only black day of the week; in fact they all are.

First, Soundgarden's "Fell On Black Days", because they goddamn rule.

Black Monday
Dublin, 1209 – when a group of 500 recently arrived settlers from Bristol were massacred by warriors of the Gaelic O'Byrne clan. The group had left the safety of the walled city of Dublin to celebrate Easter Monday near a wood at Ranelagh, when they were attacked without warning. For centuries afterwards, this event was commemorated by a mustering of soldiers on the day as a challenge to the native tribes.

April 14 1360 – the army of Edward III during the Hundred Years' War was struck by hailstorms, lightning and panic, causing considerable loss of life on Easter Monday.

February 27 1865 – a "sirocco" wind brought sandstorms to Melbourne, Australia affecting Sandhurst and Castlemaine.

February 8 1886 – when a major protest over unemployment led to a riot in Pall Mall, London.

December 10 1894 – when both banks of Newfoundland, Britain’s oldest colony, had closed their doors and rendering that colony’s main medium of exchange worthless.

October 28 1929 – a day in the Wall Street Crash of 1929, which also saw major stock market upheaval .

May 27 1935 – Supreme Court Justices overturned multiple Acts including National Industrial Recovery Act.

September 19 1977 – when Youngstown Sheet and Tube Company, one of America's largest regional steel-manufacturing firms, announced that it would shut down most of its operations in the vicinity of Youngstown, Ohio. This development presaged the collapse of that community's industrial economy.

October 15 1979 – the offices of the The Times of Malta were set on fire during a political rally. It was also on this day that supporters of the Malta Labour Party broke into the house of Dr. Edward Fenech Adami.

October 19 1987 – the second largest one-day decline in recorded stock market history.

October 8 1990 – the day the Israeli Border Police shot to death 17 Muslim Arabs at the Temple Mount in Jerusalem

Black Tuesday
October 29 1929 - a day in the Wall Street Crash of 1929

1967 - the Black Tuesday Tasmanian bushfires, an Australia natural disaster

Black Wednesday
September 16 1992 - the British government was forced to withdraw the Pound from the European Exchange Rate Mechanism due to pressure by currency speculators (like George Soros who made over $1 billion from this speculation). In 1997 the UK Treasury estimated the losses at £3.4 billion.

Black Thursday
October 24 1929 - the start of the Wall Street Crash of 1929

October 14 1943 - when the Allies suffered large losses during bombing in the Second Raid on Schweinfurt during World War II.

August 8 1982 - when Israel launched heavy aerial and artillery assaults on Beirut, Lebanon.

February 8 1996 - the Black World Wide Web protest against the Communications Decency Act in the United States.

July 24 2003 - a series of violent political demonstrations created havoc in Guatemala City.

Black Friday
September 24 1869 - the Fisk-Gould Scandal, a financial crisis in the United States .

November 18 1910 - a campaign outside the British House of Commons of the Women's Social and Political Union the Conciliation Bill failed.

January 31 1919 - the Battle of George Square, a riot stemming from industrial unrest in Glasgow, Scotland.

April 15 1921 - the announcement of British transport union leaders not to call for strike action against wage reductions for miners.

January 13 1939 - a day of devastating fires in Australia.

October 13 1944 - a disastrous attack by the Canadian Black Watch near Woensdrecht during the Battle of the Scheldt.

February 9 1945 - an air battle over Sunnfjord, the largest over Norway.

October 5 1945 - a riot at the Warner Bros. studios stemming from a Confederation of Studio Unions strike, leading to the eventual breakup of the CSU.

September 8 1978 - a massacre of protesters in Iran.

1982 - the Argentinian invasion of the Falkland Islands, sparking the Falklands War.

August 13 2004 - a crackdown in Maldives, Malé on peaceful protesters.

Black Saturday
1621 - a particularly dark and stormy day in Scotland.

December 1975 - a massacre that helped precipitate the Lebanese Civil War.

1983 - the day Hong Kong exchange rates fell to an all time low.

1984 - the day Vince McMahon took over WTBS wrestling programming.

2004 - an attack in Yanbu, Saudi Arabia.

Black Sunday
April 14 1935 - a large dust storm that swept across the Dust Bowl

July 17 1955 - the name given to Disneyland's opening day.

Oh, Poor Creosote

I ate just the right amount of food this year...discipline means knowing when you're full.

Giving Thanks For A Long Weekend

Hail Turkitron!

Any chance I have for an extra two days off is welcome, regardless of the reason. But alternative fowl is good too.

Learning Curve

N00bs rejoice (if you know how)!

New technology from Japan could help make navigating online virtual worlds simpler by letting players use their own bodies and brain waves to control their avatars. God forbid learning how to when you can translate your own thoughts and motions.

The new position-tracking system developed by Tokyo University uses a mat printed with colorful codes and web camera to calculate the player's position in three dimensions. At a recent demonstration, a researcher strapped a web camera to his hip, lens down, and walked around the large mat. Up on the screen was the computer graphic-generated 3-D world of his avatar, and as he moved across the mat, the view on the screen shifted perspective. When he crouched down to peer under a virtual parked car, the image swerved to show what his avatar would "see" — the vehicle's underside.

Keio University is working on technology that monitors brain activity so players can make their avatars move in games like Second Life just by thinking of commands like forward, right or left. The interface uses electrodes attached to the user's scalp to sense activity in the brain's sensory-motor cortex, which controls body motions. Software then translates the brain activity into signals that control the avatar.

"The difficult part is to stop thinking," said a research student. "I want to go left, so I think, 'left' — but then the avatar turns too far to the left before I can get rid of the command in my head," he said.

There no immediate plans to commercialize the technology, though but both groups are applying for patents.

One of the wonderful things about virtual reality and online gaming is you can tell who is a n00b and who knows what they're doing. Watching avatars stumble around awkwardly and walk into objects while as their real-world users fumble with the controls is almost as fun as blasting them in a game or flaming them. But more than that, it's a right of passage.

Being able to do something without trying or practice is both unnatural and skipping a fundamental step in development. Walking, talking, even learning to control your bladder so you don't wet yourself are learned behaviors, the same as targeting a weapon or moving online. This isn't The Matrix where you can just get new abilities slammed into your cerebral cortex - you still need to develop the skills. While the whole notion of virtual gaming and (sadly) living tries to supplant reality, if there is no real action or experience to learn how to do things, the process is little more than a 3-D movie with directional control, and that's virtually no experience. Hmm, maybe that's exactly why Second Life sucks.

School Gun Spirit

How long is the waiting list to get into Handgun Maintenance 101?

Over 8,000 students nationwide are part of Students for Concealed Carry on Campus, the rolls-of-the-tongue organization who argues that students and faculty already licensed to carry concealed weapons should be allowed to pack heat along with their textbooks. Why? Because they can already carry them in other places, so why not campus? Wait, are you suggesting that certain rights and permissions don't apply everywhere?

Oh, totally. But that doesn't sit well with everyone.

"It's the basic right of self defense," said Mike Guzman, a 23-year-old former Marine attending Texas State University-San Marcos. "Here on campus, we don't have that right, that right of self defense."

Not quite, GI Jerk. Your Second Amendment right to bear arms doesn't extend to campus, and self defense is far too ambiguous a realm to posit that guns on campus are implicit. Plus there are plenty of other ways to defend yourself without a gun...just ask Steven Seagal and Chuck Norris. An armed society may be a protected society, but that doesn't mean the best way to prevent campus bloodshed is more guns.

Aside from Illinois and Wisconsin, every state allows residents some form of concealed handgun carrying rights, and 36 of them issues permits to most everyone who meets licensing criteria. The precise standards vary from state to state, but most require an applicant to be at least 21 and to complete formal instruction on use of force. Many states forbid license-holders from carrying weapons on school campuses, while in states where the decision is left to the universities, schools almost always prohibit it. Utah is the only state that expressly allows students to carry concealed weapons on campus, which fits nicely with their other abnormal practices like liquorproof Sundays and Mormon theocracy.

What that leatherneck and his ilk don't understand is how different campuses are from other public places where concealed weapons are allowed. Thousands of young adults are living in close quarters, facing heavy academic and social pressure — including experimenting with drugs and alcohol — in their first years away from home. Yeah, that's the right place for guns.

W. Gerald Massengill (please, no douche jokes), the chairman of the independent panel that investigated the Virginia Tech shootings, said those concerns outweigh the argument that gun-carrying students could have reduced the number of fatalities inflicted by someone like Tech gunman Seung-Hui Cho.

"I'm a strong supporter of the Second Amendment," said Massengill, also a former head of the Virginia state police. "But our society has changed, and there are some environments where common sense tells us that it's just not a good idea to have guns available."

Students at more than 110 colleges and universities went to class wearing empty holsters on Monday. How charmingly unnerving. Yes, now I think I feel much better about letting you have weaponry. If someone decided to open fire on the quad, imagine the chaos armed students would add. While gun rights advocates bemoan regulations because they say they only deter law-abiding students and not mentally ill shooters, that's just not the proper reasoning that justifies relaxing or removing the laws. The whole point of laws is to relegate people to follow them -- of course they're no good to law abiding citizens if others don't stay within them. Laws against murder and rape are not there for those who don't act as such, just like arms bearing citizens...

She Was Asking For It

The Saudi judiciary on Tuesday defended a court verdict that sentenced a 19-year-old victim of a gang rape to six months in jail and 200 lashes because she was with an unrelated male when they were attacked. Oh justice, how dutifully you have been served.

The Shiite Muslim woman had initially been sentenced to 90 lashes after being convicted of violating Saudi Arabia's rigid Islamic law requiring segregation of the sexes, but in considering her appeal of the verdict, the Saudi General Court increased the punishment. It also roughly doubled prison sentences for the seven men convicted of raping the woman, which is also odd relative to the Western idea of law -- can you can the same hand off twice, or do they just take the other?

While the reports triggered an international outcry, the Saudi Ministry of Justice stood by the verdict Tuesday, saying that "charges were proven" against the woman for having been in a car with a man who was not her relative (and shame on her for that). The Ministry implied the victim's sentence was increased because she spoke out to the press. "For whoever has an objection on verdicts issued, the system allows an appeal without resorting to the media". Can you imagine if getting the Rev. Al and Jesse God Squad on your team here actually effected your sentencing?

The attack occurred in 2006, when the victim says she was in a car with a male student she used to know trying to retrieve a picture of her. That's a no-no - isn't taking your picture akin to stealing your soul in their culture? Pre-marital photography must also have a hefty punishment. Woman can't just let everybody see their ankles.

She says two men got into the car and drove them to a secluded area where she was raped by seven men. I have a hard time picturing a woody patch by the highway...was it behind a large sand dune? Horrible as it sounds, I think I may have seen a video with the same thing, minus the burkas and body hair and anti-American extremism. Her friend also was assaulted, but there's really no mention of how the friend ended up in the fracas (that's a gentle way of describing gang rape). Or if she was not with a relative. Or if she had any sentencing. In fact, other than making the story a little sexier, I don't know where the friend falls into the mix.

All you all know, justice in Saudi Arabia is administered by a system of religious courts according to the kingdom's strict interpretation of Islamic law, which just makes sense. Since judges have wide discretion in punishing criminals, rules of evidence are vague and sometimes no defense lawyer is present. The result, critics say, are sentences left to the whim of judges. Oh, that whimsy!

Women in the Middle East (re: Islamic cultures) are nothing more than property, and second rate at that. Your neighbor's goat can still be of value to you, but his woman is damaged goods - go figure. Those damn Zionists give too much freedom to their women, even allowing them to fight in the army. How can they feel that women are both valuable to society and important enough to defend Israel along with their fathers, brothers, husbands, and sons. Oh wait, I agree with that. Oops! Jihad on antiquated systems of law!

Oh My Lourdes!

I was deliberating it for about half a second and confirmed that it is fully within my character to make fun of an 11 year old. That's why I can question if the father of Madonna's daughter Lourdes is trainer Carlos Leon, or in fact Sasquatch. I'd dip my daughter in Nair if she looked like she was starting to wolf out like that. Madonna, can't you take a break from your stupid fake Brit accent and stealing African babies to shave your kid?

(I'm already going to hell, so I may as well have some chuckles. And can somebody tell me again what the obsession with Frida Kahlo is too.)

Animal Buddy

If you wanted to see the foreign language Muppet Show where Animal and Buddy Rich have a drum battle, well...here you go. And no surprise, the puppet got soundly beat.

Wasting Time Until The Election

The political scientists over at Yahoo! have cracked the most important issue of the presidential campaign...who is more likable!

Never mind the rhetoric about voting with your heart or wallet, vote with your friendship bracelet.

Rudy Giuliani gets the clear nod on the GOP side, but Barack Obama slightly beats out Democratic contenders Hilary Clinton and John Edwards. In a sheer popularity contest pitting the most likable Democrat vs. the best-liked Republican - which makes two years worth of stumping and campaign chasing irrelevant, Obama would beat Giuliani, 54% to 46%.

Naturally, Yahoo! ran their story with the least important info topside, as voters put likability well down the list of important qualities for candidates. Like being honest, ethical, decisive and strong.


Until this is a two horse race, there's going to be a lot of useless data coming to the surface. Sure, there's some meat in there, but there's a whole lot of fat.

Califuckyourselfication

In the weakest move since Metallica sued Napster, the Red Hot Chili Peppers sued Showtime Networks over the name of the television series "Californication", which is also the name of the band's 1999 album.

The lawsuit alleges unfair competition, dilution of the value of the name and unjust enrichment, claiming the title is "inherently distinctive, famous ... and immediately associated in the mind of the consumer" with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Well, almost. It took the show to get me to forget about that overplayed album.

"Californication is the signature CD, video and song of the band's career, and for some TV show to come along and steal our identity is not right," said singer Anthony Kiedis in a statement.

Really? Here's the title track from the album:

And here's the television series staring David Duchovny as a novelist suffering from writers' block and a mid-life crisis:

Nope, no confusion over identity, or any similarity at all. Unless you're a lawyer for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

The lawsuit also alleges use of a character named "Dani California", which is also the title of a Red Hot Chili Peppers song released in 2006. Somebody forgot to mention that "Dani California" sounds remarkably similar to Tom Petty's "Last Dance With Mary Jane", but since there was no lawsuit, it just became one of those well known "coincidences" and not litigious folklore. What a shame there are not more desperate people out there also suing for the bevy of pop culture references made on the program:

In Episode 5, during the interview with Henry Rollins on Talkback Radio, Rollins mentions the names of Hank's previous novels: South of Heaven, Seasons In The Abyss and God Hates Us All. These are all names of Slayer albums.

The Peeping Tom song "Mojo" is playing at a party when Hank goes to pick up his daughter. Some say that the name Californication was originally coined to illustrate Mr Bungle's third album, California, before being borrowed by The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Both Mr Bungle and Peeping Tom are bands led by Mike Patton, Faith No More's former singer.

Hank finds Becca listening to Eagles of Death Metal and Death Cab for Cutie on her iPod.

Becca mentions that she owns a Cradle of Filth t-shirt to Hank.

In the pilot episode, when Hank is sleeping on the sofa and is wakened by his ex-girlfriend, part of a radio broadcast from one of the Fensler Films GI Joe Public Service Announcements is audible in the background.

The show frequently references the work of musician Warren Zevon. When doing a crossword puzzle, Hank was stuck on a question for which the clue was "5 letter word for excitable boy"; the answer is Zevon. Excitable Boy is the name of one of Zevon's most popular albums. In the episode "Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder", Hank tells the surfer girl he meets at the store "Life'll kill ya," — the name of a Zevon song and album. In the same episode, Becca's band plays "Don't Let Us Get Sick" and later in the episode a cover of the song is played as well. And in "California Son", the episode opens with "Mohammed's Radio". In "The Devil's Threesome", Hank tells Charlie "Your shit's fucked up." Charlie answers rhetorically "My shit's fucked up?" The latter is the name of a Zevon song. In the episode "The Last Waltz", a cover of Zevon's song "Reconsider Me" by Steve Earle and Reckless Kelly can be heard.

Karen says that she wanted to move to Seattle to stalk and marry Chris Cornell, of the hard rock bands Soundgarden and Audioslave.

The line used by Hank in "Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder", "I think ya jarred something loose there tiger" is a direct quote from the movie Kingpin.

In episode 9, Charlie says that after his spin job, the public won't be able to tell whether Hank's next book is a piece of shit or "a heartbreaking work of staggering genius," which is the name of a Dave Eggers book. To this, Hank replies "There's a difference?"

In episode 2 Hank starts his blog post with "Hank hates you all" a reference to Spider Jerusalem's quote "I hate you all".

Episode 4 is titled "Fear and Loathing at the Fundraiser," a reference to the Hunter S. Thompson book "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas".

In episode 10, Dani makes reference to the TV program "Slut Wars" being popular. This is a reference to the film The TV Set in which David Duchovny plays a writer of a TV pilot. In the film, the fictional network Duchovny is pitching his pilot to have just had a popular hit with the equally fictional "Slut Wars."

In episode 7, Becca compares the result of Hank and Karen's relationship to the Robert Frost poem 'Nothing Gold Can Stay'. Hank later responds to Becca's comparison by telling her "Stay gold, Ponyboy", a line from the book and movie 'The Outsiders', a story in which Robert Frost's poem also plays a small part.

I'm guessing the satire of South Park and the pop culture joke blending of Family Guy are soon to be sued for their incredible thievery.

The suit seeks a permanent injunction barring Showtime and the other defendants from using the title "Californication" for the show, damages and restitution and disgorgement of all profits derived by the defendants. Nice. Does the band want to take a little break from making crappy music and eat up the profits of a fresh, funny show? Apparently - clearly a couple of guys who used to wear socks on their dicks believe they came up with the idea of "californication".

Never mind that over 35 years ago the portmanteau came into play, and that show creator and executive producer Tom Kapinos liked that idea of the dominant and distinctly Californian lifestyle.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers passed their creative plateau years ago, and it's kinda pathetic and disgustingly narcissistic for them to glom onto an original and innovative program for their own benefit. I look forward to many more episodes of the program, especially if I have to deal with more watered down funk-pop from a band in the twilight of their creativity.

From Cthulhu's Gallery

A touch of Victorian horror and a Lovecraftian edge is what art needs, I say.

Dan Hillier must be pining to illustrate a few pages in the Necronomicon, but has the diversity to be disturbing in a number of styles and mediums.

Jaded Date

Seems like it’s that time of year again…

No, I’m not talking about the holidays; it’s time for me to rejoin the wonderful world of online dating.

Thanks in no small part to all you jerks and your feeble attempts to find me somebody mildly tolerable – or anybody at all, I have taken it upon myself to head back into the digital dating quagmire, because my biological clock is ticking, and I’ve only got 40 or so years left to sire a child. Damnit man, hurry!

Seven years ago The Good Doctor goaded me into following a white rabbit, and while I never caught that fluffy little tail, it was the beginning of many adventures through the interweb glass. Some of you spectators know of my trials (literally) and tribulations, but not having read the Quarterly when some of it was being printed should not put you at a disadvantage. Over that span I’ve dated a few ladies from the real world and the interweb, but as I get older, I’m less inclined to strike out with strangers at Ye Olde Hipster Bar. Shit, I’m just less inclined to go out.

Overall, I can’t say that I’ve found real worlders any different from cybergirls. Eventually, I have to kill them all and bury the bodies. Bloggage is inadmissible in court, right? Between work and working out and writing and playing music, there’s so very little time for pron, illegal downloads, and skulking about (yes, I have a Thursday night skulking group)…how am I supposed to spend a few days a week hating the people I meet at places I don’t want to go to just to get nowhere?

The dating scene in Los Angeles is brutal. HR nailed the whole thing. How you’re dressed determines who you’ll be undressing. What you drive up in determines who you’ll drive home with. What you do determines who you do. Cutting out that superficial jazz can be an advantage in trying to meet someone, and with online dating resembling a human trafficking version of Amazon, you can really shop for who and what you want.

Having surrendered my dignity and sanity to become part of the process, protocol requires that I fill out all the fields and forms for JDate, my interweb dating receptacle of choice. My last girlfriend was a Jewess from the J-Dizzle, and prior to a brief fling with the crusty eldest daughter of the Montana Bakers, so was another love interest o’ mine. Famous Mom and the family would shit matzo bricks if I didn’t come home with a nice Jewish girl, but fortunately for them I too am looking for somebody from the tribe. In all my dating and soliciting, the girls who had the same cultural upbringing and experiences seemed to be easier to get along with. And when Sarah S said that “mommy is one of the chosen people, and daddy believes that Jesus is magic”, I laughed because it was funny and true. Then again, I may just secretly want an overbearing shrew who doesn’t give blow jobs and has a sense of entitlement. Oh, one can only hope to meet the JAP of his dreams…

Really though, what are my other choices? Myspace? Please. Stalking somebody by proxy is creepy, and just because you and they have the same 18th favorite band doesn’t mean that’s a love connection. It’s also too much like the old Blind Date / Exite profiles, which, like Myspace, were free. Paying to sign up for online dating sucks, but it weeds out 90% of the scum who are lurking online. Which brings me to Craig’s List. How anybody could take a personal ad on there seriously is beyond me. Do you honestly think the same place you try and sell your old stereo components and furniture is a good place to meet people. It’s like the Recycler online, and that was full of truck parts and music equipment. eHarmony was also suggested, and that’s just not how I roll. Filling out their 324 step questionnaire and then letting their secret astrological-psychological-love algorithm match me up just feels wrong. I’m quite capable of picking who want to date, and I know that no matter how many times I put in that I want a 5’ 7”, 125 lb. brunette, their mat(c)hmaker can’t verify that her data is true nor decide if she’ll be attractive to me. I know what I like way better than their staff, so don’t think I’m paying them for that privilege.

Dating online requires you to have a keen eye, to be able to sort the facts from fiction. The first thing that can be a giant waving red flag is the online name your potential J-Mate takes. Avoid anyone who has the words “princess”, “brat”, or “Gucci” as part of their screen name. No good can come of them, and you are guaranteed a pain in the ass of Manhattan proportions. Same with anyone who needs to include some reference to their college in there like “Bruin” or “Trojan”. If their identity is based around mascots and school colors, they’re still living and thinking like a freshman. Me, I may use the screen name “Gentleman Strangler” - it is damn good and the ladies ought to know it’s just for laughs. Well, mostly…

The picture is another make or break part of the process. How anybody expects to date without putting a picture up is in the same realm as alien abduction to me – unexplainable and mysterious. The simple route is to assume they’re just fug monsters who are so repulsive that to gaze upon them would turn you to stone or cause instant homosexuality. But when you see what kind of beasts some are in the photos, the ones without must be something impossibly worse.

You’ve got to put your best few photos up because people will be judging you just for your looks, and while you’re at it, try and look a little like the people in the pictures. Those great pictures of you are four years old, and that was 20 cases of Entemann’s ago. I have been out many times and wondered how the person in the picture ever was the person that showed up. My rule of thumb is to find the worst picture of the bunch, because that’s the closest to how they really look. And when you see pictures that look like headshots or magazine ads, either that’s not really the person or it won’t look like them once you take away the pro hair, makeup, and lighting. Also, if they put up more than one picture of themselves with a drink in their hand, you’re looking at a party girl and probable slut, so stay away. Those who supposedly lack the photo cropping skills to remove their ex-boyfriends from their pictures are most likely still in touch with them, and nothing ruins a romance like some past-tense cockblocking.

Now let’s say you think you’ve found someone who’s handle and look aren’t totally offensive – it’s time to learn a little something about them. Profile writing is laden with bogus information and stock answers, so it is imperative that you understand what people mean through what they say.

they say: adventurous
they mean: slept with everyone

they say: athletic
they mean: no breasts

they say: curvy
they mean: fat ass

they say: emotionally secure
they mean: on medication

they say: enjoys sports
they mean: dates frat boys

they say: enjoys travelling
they mean: wants you to take them places

they say: free spirit
they mean: whore

they say: friendly
they mean: slutty

they say: independent
they mean: has trouble keeping relationships

they say: intellectual
they mean: reads Vogue

they say: new-agey
they mean: body hair in the wrong places

they say: nurturing
they mean: nagging

they say: old-fashioned
they mean: no blow jobs

they say: open-minded
they mean: desperate

they say: outgoing
they mean: loud and embarrassing when drunk

they say: petite
they mean: no breasts

they say: professional
they mean: uptight

they say: romantic
they mean: prude

they say: sense of humor
they mean: watches Two And A Half Men

they say: silly
they mean: immature

they say: sophisticated
they mean: shops at Tiffany’s and Fred Segal

they say: stubborn
they mean: bitch

they say: voluptuous
they mean: very fat ass

they say: wants soul mate
they mean: stalker

Much like the worst picture theory, there are tells in profile info. You can almost always add 10 pounds to what ever weight they list. Call it wishful thinking or fear of scales, but they seem to not know what weight really is. That or they can’t convert from metric. Women misjudge their height as well, likely to wearing heels so often, so subtract an inch from their heights.

Look very carefully at what’s been said that’s not part of just checking off boxes. With all kinds of time to come up with whatever free wording they can, if it doesn’t read perfectly, you’re dealing with an idiot. Spell check is available everywhere, and grammar is just something that everybody in 3rd grade should have picked up and remembered. And people who can’t tell the difference between your and you’re, we’ll, I hope you never find love, because you’ll be breeding the children my children will be hating, just like I hate you you stupid fuck.

And by the way, everybody likes food, music, conversation, and laughing. Plus, one person in a thousand won’t put down they “enjoy going out for a night on the town, but are just as comfortable staying in to watch a movie”, and the only reason it’s not there is because they forgot to put it.

Finding a candidate to sexually assault date can be tough, especially since you’ve got to get the few you are interested in to feel mildly intrigued by you. It doesn’t matter who makes contact with the other, but I think that when the woman initiates, you’re already a step ahead since you know there’s some interest. Like sex, online dating is controlled by women because they have the power to say yes or no. They’re the objects of desire and that gives them the upper hand.

In any case, hopefully you will have some success if you do the same as I, and if you don’t choose to follow me down this dark path of dating, I may keep you informed of my hits and misses…this is a blog and not my dear diary, but given my suppressed lunacy and attitude, you’re likely to hear a good tale or two out of this one of these days

Bad Taste Wins!

The American Music Awards are in the same worthless strata of self-congratulatory garbage as The People’s Choice Awards and whatever Nickelodeon is calling their kiddie celebrity celebration. Proof? Chris Daughtry, the American Idol reject claimed a trio of statuettes at the awards ceremony.

Nailing Favorite Pop-Rock Album, Breakthrough Artist, and Best Contemporary Artist, Daughtry cheapened the music industry and further demonstrated that being shitty is okay because the music listening public at large are dumb, tasteless motherfuckers. Yes, for the first time in the show’s history, winners were chosen by public votes cast online. Not that the “professionals” would have done better (anyone remember Jethro Tull’s upset win of Metallica at the Grammys?). His bland, cookie cutter Wal*Mart style of “rock” is about as punk as Green Day and as alternative as Nickelback.

What could make Daughtry any more of a putz? How about this sackless quote:

“Wow. I can’t believe we’re in the same category with Justin Timberlake and Linkin Park. It’s pretty awesome.”

I’m sure he’d have added another trophy if they still had Douchenozzle Of The Year. He’s got my vote there.

Feast Of A Weekend

Why are the weekend days more delicious than the previous five combined?

This weekend I'll enjoy both ends of the meat spectrum within hours. Today is Famous Dad's birthday (I'm not telling how many years, but he doesn't look it anyway), so we're going to watch my Kings tomorrow and grind a Farmer John dog before a more civilized meal of filet mignon at The Palm. Bloodsport and animal flesh -- now that's a birthday!

Between brunch Sunday morning and a post-rehearsal meal tonight, I think I'm confident that these next couple of days are going to get the shit eaten out of them. Not literally, but what is in those Farmer John dogs?

Roboach

Cease your wondering! Tiny robots programmed to act like roaches can blend into cockroach society!

Cockroaches tend to self-organize into leaderless groups, seeming to reach consensus on where to rest together. For example, when provided two similar shelters, most of the group tended to gather under the same one. Researchers from the Free University of Brussels designed small robots programmed to act like a cockroach, hoping to learn more about this behavior.

The robots didn't look like the insects, and at first the roaches fled from them, but after the scientists coated the robots with pheromones that made them smell like roaches the machines were accepted into the group, nesting together with the insects.

Given a choice, roaches generally prefer a darker place and the robots were programmed to do the same. When given a choice of a darker or lighter shelter, 75%of the cockroaches and 85% of the robots gathered under the darker one. Then, to see if the robots had really become part of society and could influence group decisions, they were programmed to prefer shelters with more light.

The result? The lighter shelter was preferred by the mixed group 61% of the time, while the cockroaches alone picked it just 27% of the time. On the other hand, in 39% of cases the robots, despite being programmed to prefer a lighter shelter, joined the cockroaches under the darker one.

This is huge news for the cockroach robotics industry. Of course, the marketing community may also be interested in using some combination of pest and robot to help manipulate sales, and there could be a great future applying the same technology to fraternity boys and sorority girls, who seem to be human versions of the insect.

School In A Cave

Next time your parents tell you the tale of how they had to walk uphill both ways in the snow when they went to school, tell them this story.

Children in southwest China's Guizhou province are attending classes at the Dongzhong primary school, which literally means "in cave". The school is built in a huge, aircraft hanger-sized natural cave, carved out of a mountain over thousands of years by wind, water and seismic shifts. If you wondered what education would look like after the apocalypse, here you go. I don't know how fit the school is, but given the toxic food, medicine, and toys coming out of China in the last year, something tells me there may be some early development issues leading to poor decision making and planning as adults.

Early Checkout At The Greybar Hotel

Poor Kiefer Sutherland...if only he were a woman. And a Hollywood celebutant.

The Sheriff's Department notes the Los Angeles County women's detention center in Lynwood grants 30 to 50 early releases every day to it's female prisoners. Which is why Lindsay Lohan served 84 minutes for her second drunk driving offense.

After checking in at 10:30 a.m. she was searched, fingerprinted and placed in a holding cell in the inmate reception area. She did keep her street clothes, so banish those prison shower fantasies.

In May, Lohan was arrested after crashing her car into a tree in Beverly Hills. She was arrested again in July after the mother of Lohan's former personal assistant called 911 to report that her car was being chased by an SUV. The chase ended in Santa Monica, where police arrested Lohan for being behind the wheel. In both cases, Lohan was found in possession of small amounts of cocaine. In August, she reached a plea deal on misdemeanor drunken driving and cocaine charges stemming from the arrests. The judge sentenced her to four days in jail — the mandatory minimum for a second drunken-driving offense — but gave her credit for 24 hours already served. She elected to complete 10 days of community service instead of 48 hours behind bars.

Her total deal: enter a treatment facility, spend a day in jail and perform community service. So is this special treatment?

Well, she spent two minutes longer in lockup than Nicole Richie did in August for a similar offense. And Paris Hilton spent a whopping 23 days in the clink. But really, they're skating through the penal system (you can pun that if you like) due to their celebrity. Comparisons have been made that she spent as much time behind bars as the running length of the conveniently named Let's Go To Prison, and her latest opus I Know Who Killed Me was both longer and more painful to endure than her jail stint...and they're spot on. Halle Berry runs people down and Rebecca Gayheart killed a person with virtually zero legal reprocussions, so if you're an attractive starlet, you can do no wrong (but plenty of harm) behind the wheel.

Serenduplicity

They can't claim it's not an original experience...

Venerable olde-timey Manhattan ice creamery and treatatorium Serendipity 3 was closed by health officials after it failed it's second inspection in a month. An inspector spotted a live mouse and mouse droppings, fruit flies, house flies and more than 100 live cockroaches.

"Both inspections revealed rodent and fly infestation and conditions conducive to pest infestation, including stagnant water in the basement," the department said.

People have stood in line for hours outside the Little Italy restaurant known for its extravagant and expensive desserts. It's $25,000 Frrrozen Haute Chocolate features top-grade cocoa, edible gold and shavings of a luxury truffle and was declared the most expensive dessert in the world by Guinness World Records (you know how I feel about those jerks). The eatery also offers a $1,000 sundae named Golden Opulence requiring 48-hour advance notice.

Many many years ago, Famous Cousin took me to the eatery for a late night snack, and while it was delicious, I was stuck by the general filth and cramped quarters. There were flies buzzing about and there was no possible way to move between tables without asking every person to move their chair. I did like the decor, which was very Victorian flea market, but it felt like I was in a run down tenement building. Last year, I took the ex Mademoiselle Famous there, and little had changed in their favor. I am not surprised in the least they got popped for health violations, but it's weird that all the pictures I found online are all nice and beautiful. Did I eat in their goddamn dungeon?

Japanese Mobile Suit Gundam Super Army

Listen up, Scartoe!

A high-tech armament system for infantry soldiers sparked interest among anime fans at a recent Ministry of Defense research presentation when officials announced that it was designed with the popular Gundam anime in mind.

The Advanced Personal Armament System, Japan's version of the Future Soldier project (to modernize combat infantry units), was introduced by the ministry's Technical Research and Development Institute. Titled "Towards the realization of Gundam", the system offers a network-linked helmet providing night and thermal vision and GPS technology, amongst other capabilities. Personally, it doesn't look like much, considering how cool those Japanimators make their anime.

Speaking of GPS, calls for the Defense Ministry to distribute position tracking cell phones to ministry officials have been raised in an effort to discourage them being wined and dined by defense contractors. This follows the discovery that former Administrative Vice Defense Minister Takemasa Moriya was engaging in collusive relations with an executive from a major defense contractor. See, there's corrupt relations between government officials and defense contractors overseas just like ours!

On a side note, there is an obesity scale from one to five (I think it's disgustingly obese to morbid), and it has something to do with body mass and how far down gut fat goes. Like level one is waist band curling and level five goes to the knees. Anyway, they put out commercials for Gundam model building, where the difficulty level is also on a one to five scale. Clever lads that we are, Herr Doctor and I just started referring to fatties as Gundams. And now you know.

And for those who have never dorked out to MSG, here's a taste.

Treefingers

Just in time for my lunch, this heartwarming and stomach churning tale comes to me from HRM Idle Eyes (See-Thru The First, Lord Of The Lotus Pose).

A 35 year old Indonesian fisherman named Dede may finally have a cure for the growths that eventually riddled his body and turned his hands and feet into root like appendages. It turns out he may have a genetic deficiency that can not control wart growths caused by the fairly common Human Papilloma Virus. In his case, his immune system could not suppress the growths, which dermatologists call "cutaneous horns".

This story is also being highlighted on the Discovery Channel tonight. The full story can be found here.

And because I'm trying to eat my turkey sandwich, here's a video to Radiohead's "Treefingers"...much easier than looking at pictures of Dede.

'Sup, Holmes

Ever see a comet grow bigger and brighter?

While the sun remains by far the most massive object in the solar system, the comparatively tiny Comet 17P/Holmes has released so much gas and dust due to an unexpected eruption that its coma(extended atmosphere) is larger than the diameter of the sun.

time-lapse, Holmes!

"It continues to expand and is now the largest single object in the solar system," according to astronomers at the University of Hawaii. On November 9, the coma's diameter was 869,900 miles compared to roughly 864,900 miles for the sun.

Nobody knows why Holmes erupted, but it underwent a similar explosive brightening in 1892. The recent display, which began in late October, will continue over the next few weeks and months as the coma and stubby tail are expected to expand even more. The comet will fade in brightness as the dust disperses at roughly 1,100 mph. The nucleus, made of ice and rock, is only 2.2 miles in diameter.

Currently, Holmes is 149 million miles away and retreating from it's closest point with the Earth, which was in May. At 1.6 times the distance from Earth to the sun, the Hubble telescope can't resolve the nucleus, but that's mostly due to the cloud of disintegrating dust particles shedding from the nucleus.

Astronomy and quantum particle physics are two things that warp my noodle. Space shit is totally cool. I'm happy that this comet is nice and far away now that it's erupting, because it would really suck to have everything obliterated by a freak comet. Especially Baja Fresh. Damn, I love that place.

Art Crime

Relax, no important pieces of art was stolen. But no important piece of art was overvalued and sold for and obscene price.

Jeff Koons' sculpture of a stainless steel heart hanging from a golden bow sold Wednesday for $23.6 million, becoming the most expensive piece by a living artist ever auctioned. Sotheby's also pocketed a healthy chunk for finding a sucker willing to pay that kind of green. "Hanging Heart" is nearly 9 feet tall and weighs more than 3,500 pounds -- That's over $6,700 a pound, making it one of the most valuable non-drug substances on Earth. The piece is from Koons' "Celebration" series, and another sculpture, "Diamond (Blue)" sold through Christie's the day prior for $11.8 million.

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

More than the overkill of the price is the perfunctory spin the douchenozzles at Sotheby's are spreading. "Koons is an artist who doesn't allow compromise, and 'Hanging Heart' is all about making an impossibility possible," said Tobias Meyer, head of Sotheby's contemporary art department. Okay, you're a douche because your name is Tobias and you head a contemporary art department at an auction house, but what bullshit compromise are you talking about? Did the city tell him he was not allowed to make any 9 foot steel hearts? It sure doesn't sound like an impossibility, just a colossal waste of time. And I thank your colleague Lauren Gioia for considering the sculpture "one of Jeff Koons' most important works". that's not saying much. You'd think the thing would bring about world peace, fertility to barren women, and cure cancer. It looks like something FAO Schwartz would put in a window display at Christmas.

Paradoxymoron

Kids, there's a new blog on the scene - Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians. Dear God, they do.

Oh, The Places You Will Go

Stephanie Griest, who authored the coming-of-age travel memoir (yes, like music, even literature has retardedly specific sub-genres) Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana, has new publication to help the unimaginative and directionless. 100 Places Every Woman Should Go is compliation of travel recommendations and activities...just for women!

Her prose (and I stretch to call it that) reads like a compliation of your hotel room Guest Informant, a Reader's Digest feature, and a concierge desk brochure of local leisure pursuits. Here are eight of her favorite picks for women wanderers, and eight flaws in those picks:

"For inspiration and enlightenment: Hawaii Volcanoes National Park"

Goddesses reign supreme in Hawaii, and the most venerated is Pele, who presides over the volcanoes. Legend has it she secretly envies Poliahu, goddess of the snow, and the two quarrel often — especially over menfolk. Poliahu usually wins, causing Pele to erupt in fury, and Poliahu gets stuck cleaning the mess with her ice afterward. (Indeed, traces of lava have been found seeping through glacial ice caps at various epochs in Hawaiian geological history.) Even when Pele triumphs, she soon tires of her lovers and sends them racing down the mountain, trailed by her hot, molten lava. To see her in action, head to the Big Island. Lounge upon the white-sand beaches at Kona Coast and the black-sand beaches at Puna district, then soak in thermal pools set in lava rock at Ahalanui Beach Park. Pele dwells in the Halema'uma'u Crater Overlook of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. Devotees leave her offerings of flowers, gin, and ohelo berries. Then pay homage to Poliahu atop Mauna Kea, the world's tallest mountain (when measured base to peak). Linger til sunset to see why Hawaiians consider their homeland to be Earth's connecting point to the universe.

Ask any vulcanologist - you do not want to be anywhere the near a volcano when it is erupting. Actually, they want to be there, but you don't. Aside from the clouds of smoke and ash, the burning magma flow will vaporize you limbs. As for thermal pools and beaches, you're not getting farther than your hotel spa or the tiny spit of coast outside your room. That's also why you're not going to watch the sunrise or sunset at a mountain top. I did a ride from the crater top on Maui, and you have to get up there at 4am , I know you ladies are not flying 3000+ miles to the islands just to wake up before dawn for a sunrise. And a hint: sunset looks better on the beach where the ocean meats the horizon, not on a mountain.

"For indulgence: Lingerie shopping in Paris"

Every woman should have at least one fabulous piece of lingerie tucked inside her drawers — even if there's no one around to show it to. Slipping on a chiffon babydoll and dimming the lights is, after all, the best way to turn a lonely TV dinner into a romantic dinner-for-one. To spice up your collection, fly to Paris, where they claim to have invented it. Herminie Cadolle went down in fashion history for "freeing" women by slicing the stifling corset in two in 1889, thus creating the world's first bra. Even today, her Parisian boutiques — currently run by her great-great-granddaughter — remain among the finest places to buy one. Cadolle specialties include Victorian corsets, bodices, and a broad collection of hand-sewn brassieres, but to truly indulge, make an appointment for a satiny, made-to-measure something at 255 rue Saint-Honoré (Metro: Concorde or Tuilleries). For her ready-to-wear collection, visit 4 rue Cambon.

I agree that every woman should have at least one fabulous piece of lingerie, but you're an idiot if you have to go to France to get "special" French lingerie. There's this thing called the interweb, and there are lots of places that sell French undergarments, direct from France. If you're not so computer savvy (let's face it, you're reading a book for travel advice, not checking shit out online), then head down to your local mall or boutique -- lots o' French ladywear there too. Believe or not, after the French-Indian War in the late 18th century, Franco-American trade increased heavily. How do you think we pulled of the Louisiana Purchase?

"For purification and beautification: The banyas of Moscow and St. Petersburg"

The Russian banya is a Slavic Eden: a steamy, womb-like place that will tack years onto your life. According to folklore, these baths are haunted by mischievous spirits that bewitch clothing worn inside, so strip down all the way. (Most of the baths are gender-segregated.) Rinse off in the shower and enter the steam room, where scores of women will be massaging salt into each other's pores, swapping beauty secrets, and gossiping. Grab a branch of birch leaves and slap it against your body. Roast. When the heat becomes unbearable, proceed to the pool room and jump in immediately. (Some are kept as frigid as 42 degrees; stick a toe in first and you'll lose your nerve.) Get out before hypothermia kicks in and return to the steam room. Repeat as many times as possible: your skin will glow afterward! In Moscow, visit Krasnopresnensky on Stolyarny Pereulok 7, near the Ulitsa 1905 Goda Metro. In St. Petersburg, try Mitninskaya Banya at Ulitsa Mitninskaya 17/19 near the Metro Ploshad' Vosstaniya.

In post-Cold War Russia, Levi's jeans were going for almost $200 a pair. Imagine what your stupid 7 For All Mankind jeans would fetch on the black market. While you're using your noodle, imagine giant, naked Russian women forcibly massaging salt on you and smacking you with birch leaves. Ahhh...old world rape. From Red Heat to Eastern Promises, you've got to avoid Russian bathhouses. You need to avoid bathhouses in general.

"To celebrate powerful women and their places in history: Frida Kahlo's Mexico"

Mexican artist Frida Kahlo is one of history's grand divas. A tequila-slamming, dirty joke-telling smoker, she hobbled about her bohemian barrio in lavish indigenous dress and threw dinner parties for the likes of Leon Trotsky, poet Pablo Neruda, Nelson Rockefeller, and her on-again, off-again husband, muralist Diego Rivera. Half a century after her death, her work fetches more money than any other female artist's (Madonna is said to be an avid collector), and she was the first Latina ever featured on a U. S. postage stamp. Visiting her cobalt blue home in Coyoacan is like stepping inside one of her fantastical paintings. The walls are awash with color and mosaics; a Day of the Dead altar yields pastries, flowers, candles, and papier mâché skeletons; the courtyard blooms with tropical flowers and cactus. Her personal effects are displayed throughout the house, including her pre-Hispanic jewelry, sketchbook diaries, love letters, artwork, and corset-like body cast. (Stricken with polio as a child, she shattered her spine in a bus accident at age eighteen.) Frida t-shirts, computer mousepads, and coffee cups are sold in the gift shop, and you can sip a café con leche in the tranquil café. La Casa Azul is located on Londres 247 and accessible by the Coyoacan Viveros Metro Station in Mexico City.

The cult of Kahlo, home to gay men and homely women. Her unplucked monobrow and heinous looks are canonized, and her art is less than impressive. But if you want to be a good feminist lemming, you'll carry on about how Frida was so liberated and so amazing for her time. Yeah, it would be hard to not be a drunk, vulgar lunatic in Mexico back then. The only difference between her and other women was that she painted. And to anybody who's been to Mexico, they'll tell you there ain't much to look at. Gonna travel hours to spend a few minutes in her house? Try an afternoon in Tijuana if you think you've got the endurance.

"To celebrate struggle and renewal: Arts and voodoo festivals in Benin"

Traveling in West Africa is empowering for women — precisely because it is challenging. You must utilize every available resource to make it through the day, and when you finally find that market or village you are seeking, it is like unearthing rubies. The warmth and hospitality of its people make Benin especially welcoming. Upon arrival to any town, visit the mayor's office and ask for the local women's group. A guide will likely take you to the local crafts cooperative, where you can buy directly from the artisans. Also explore the world of voodoo, a belief that natural forces like rain and wind have spiritual forces behind them. Practitioners build shrines out of small mounds of earth and offer their gods alcohol, flowers, food, and the blood of animals sacrificed in their honor. On National Voodoo Day — January 10 — partake in dancing fueled by copious amounts of sodabe (a local palm liquor) at the vibrant festivals in Ouidah. Look out for the Mami Wata worshippers, who dress in all white. Mostly women, they are considered very powerful and are often feared.

Unless you're Angelina Jolie or Madonna, why are you going to Africa? Besides the less than stringent adoption laws, there's nothing more to do there unless you're bringing Red Cross aid or arming local warlords for their genocide. White women in Africa are welcome like narcs at a biker rally. And if you're a woman of color, that's okay, you're still a westerner...and still unwanted.

"For womanly affirmation: Belly dancing in San Francisco, New York, or Austin"

Belly dancing dates back to pre-Biblical times, when it was performed as a fertility-cult ritual. In ancient Arab tribes, midwives assisted women in labor by dancing around them, rolling their stomachs to imitate the contraction of the uterus. It was also performed as entertainment throughout the Orient by and for women who stayed home while their husbands were out. Not only a great physical workout, modern belly dancing will get you in touch with your earthy self. Communities can be found in every corner of the United States. San Francisco is home to Fat Chance Belly Dance, a renowned tribal dance troupe. Take a class at their studio at 670 South Van Ness Avenue. In New York City, look up legendary teacher Morocco of the Casbah Dance Experience, or Sarah Johansson Locke of Alchemy Performance. Austin, Texas is the place to be on full moons, when Lucila Dance Productions hosts Haflas, gatherings of dancers and drummers who snack on grape leaves as they dance barefoot beneath the stars. Down some wine if you feel inhibited: it's the best hip lubricant around!

Gee, it feels like 'ol Greist is slipping. What makes these three places special is probably the fact there's a little kickback action going on. I know she's no expert in belly dance and didn't bother to check in other cities...and of all places why is her destination not somewhere in the Middle East, where it would be far better suited? And yet those are the top choices...how odd. Belly dance can be found at your local YMCA, but if you want to cross country for the same experience, drag your dumb ass across state lines. Even though you've got the belly, you really may not have the grace to do the dance...try one of those instructional videos first.

"For all-around wonder: Mongolia"

Mongolia. The word might conjure desolation, but this "last frontier" is actually steeped in ritual and tradition and surrounded by stark, natural beauty. Come to race a pony (or yak or camel) across a grassland speckled with wildflowers, to meditate in hidden Tibetan Lamaist temples, to bask in the legacy of Mandhai-Setsen, the Wise Queen who re-unified her turbulent nation by leading her troops into battle in the fifteenth century.

In the countryside, hospitable families will welcome you to their ger (wood-framed tent) with a small bowl of vodka (if you're lucky) or a potent brew of fermented mare's milk called airag (if you're not). Drink every drop and hold the bowl upside down over your head to prove it. Then explore the surrounding area on horseback, which could mean Sherwood-like forests, Ghobi desert, or tundra. The best month to visit Mongolia is July — not just for the sunny weather, but for Naadam, a three-day, Olympic-style festival celebrated throughout the nation. The wrestling division features 300-pound wrestlers clad only in boots, briefs, and sleeves who clutch each other for hours (and hours) until their strength wears out and they knock each other over. Like sumo, but sexier.

You'll get killed over there. Worse, nobody here will be able to identify you by your bloody Louis Vuitton purse.

"Just for the fun of it: The Bahamian island of Eleuthera"

Nearly every sea culture has tales of lovely maidens who propel through the ocean with fish-like tails. A few believe mermaids help steer ships from harm's way, but most claim they are seductresses who, like the Sirens of myth, lure sailors into the water with their songs and then sink their ships. One place where mermaids are thought to be alive and well is the island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas. Locals say that if you rise early enough, you can sometimes catch them washing their golden locks on the rocks of Whale Point, an old swimming hole. Bahamian children believe that their parents have seen this, and they will too someday. If your own sunrise outing is in vain, become one yourself: there is little to do here but splash in the water. Eleuthera's beaches (in particular, Harbour Island) have crystalline waters filled with colorful reefs, eagle rays, octopus, and dolphins. Whales migrate through annually. Then pass the night at Elbina's in Gregory Town, where locals gather to sing along to live Southern Caribbean music. Ask the old-timers about their own mermaid encounters; you'll hear some great stories.

Ah, for the woman who thinks the Caribbean is like something out of Disney's Pirates franchise. You're likely to be impressed by those wild tales of the sea. And by impressed I'm referring to the old custom of impression, where pirates and other scoundrels would forcibly take people out to sea with them, to work in indentured servitude. That is, if you're not just talking straight slave trade. There's still a good market for that kind of action. Sorry, but Jack Sparrow isn't coming to your rescue...

If you're a trust fund baby with no direction or purpose in life, then this is the book for you! But if you work any kind of regular job, you're going to be hard pressed to afford these little dalliances and have the time to do any of them. Like jetting off to Europe of the dark continent is a weekend thing. You are likely to get raped, robbed, or killed in a lot of these places, and the door-opening, puddle crossing gentleman in me can't in good faith go along with the notion that traveling under her guidelines is safe. And that's just eight of her picks. The dog fighting ring in Malaysia? The Bolivian cocaine relay? Fighting insurgents in Chechnya? Suicide bombing classes in Jordan? Lots of bad ideas and mistakes to be made.

Want to really have an adventure? Try and survive a weekend in my apartment. You've never want to leave your home again if you survive. It's like if a college dorm mated with a third world jungle during an air raid.