DoF Friday Funk: DOUBLE FEATURE Hot Chip-Colours (Fred Falke Remix)/ PROJECT JAZZ- Hell Razah f/ Talib Kweli and MF DOOM

Hell Razah- Project Jazz f. Talib Kweli and MF DOOM


Hot Chip - Colours (Fred Falke Remix)

DoF Shirt of the week: Ginger PRIDE!

Everybody has heroes. Redheads just have cooler ones.

The famous Coifs of Shaun White, Conan O'Brien and of course, Ronald McDonald are emblazoned over a powerful "GINGER PRIDE"

RED POWER!!!

As always, click here to see it on more shirts/sweatshirts/mugs, etc.

Famous Last Words - Volume V

Death is the end result of life as surely as an IRS audit is the end result of you claiming your dogs as dependents. And, in their final moments, people often reveal great volumes of wisdom.

The latest installment of the Diary's "Famous Last Words" series is about the times that they don't.

**************

"Okay, VEEERY funny, you guys. I think that's about enough. This is getting pretty old. And I should know." - Abe Vigoda, Actor (not dead)

"What, are you kidding me? Fuck that 'burial at sea' bullshit. Would YOU want to be buried at YOUR office, asshole?" - "Deadliest Catch" star Captain Phil Harris (stroke)

"Just do me a favor, and make sure the obituary doesn't say, 'she died after a short illness,' or, 'she had an all-too-brief life,' or any of that bullshit. Because HONESTLY." - Zelda Rubenstein, midget psychic lady from "Poltergeist" (organ failure)

"Wait...What's my line...?" Soupy Sales, Comedian (cancer)

"Where in the hell is my Jell-O? Nurse? NUUURSE?!? Goddamnit, who's in CHARGE here?" - Alexander Haig, Former U.S. Secretary of State (staph infection)

"Oh...Oh, my GOD. It's all so CLEAR to me, now! There really is a single, unifying principle scarcely underlying the surface of all that exists; a common empirical bond that's a sophisticated marriage of mathematics, biology, philosophy, chemistry, physics and spirituality! I see it, now...It is at once as delicate and fleeting as a child's laughter, and yet also dichotomously more rugged and eternal than forged iron, and all neatly summed up by an elegant expression-slash-juxtaposition of complementary disciplines! How could this not have been apparent all along? How incomprehensibly cruel that it should strike me now, reveal itself to me when the moment of my passing is surely nigh? And yet, how decidedly appropriate that this exquisitely-choreographed, precisely-balanced dance of ancient and eternal delight remain in my wake, as a dewy blossom waiting patiently to be stumbled upon by future seekers of the greatest of truths! Dear lord, I've been an utter FOOL." Anna Nicole Smith, Actress/Playmate (drug overdose)

"GGgggkkkRRrrBBBbLLlll - RRRKKKKkkkkkchkkk...-"Fashion designer Alexander McQueen (suicide by hanging)

10-Second Confessional with: Blaine Fridley

• I was born without buttocks, so when I wear briefs, they are baggy in the booty and it looks like I'm carrying a load in my drawers.

• I wear briefs sometimes.

• During a bout of unemployment in the summer of '03, I became secretly addicted to Dawson's Creek.

• In order to break a bout of unemployment during the summer of '03, I took a job at the Gap.

• I was once very afraid that I wouldn't get a call back after an interview with the Gap.

• The shame of the summer of '03 was palpable.

More confessions.

Authority Always Wins

A recent rash of announced retirements in the U.S. Senate has got watchers of American politics sweating a little.

The last few months, a total of thirteen Senators (six Democrats and seven Republicans) have definitively stated that they will not be running for re-election in the mid-terms this year, leaving a staggering number of seats up in the air. And obviously, given the near-deadlock legislative sessions of the last few months, the outlook come November could be significantly different. If the balance of power tips to the Left, then it's possible that there could be even more pressure on Barack Obama to make good on the tenets of his campaign platform. If the scales swing Right, then the Republicans could further hog-tie the President. That'd potentially leave him even more impotent than he's seemed lately in the face of their "party of no" knee-jerk stonewalling of anything even faintly smelling of Democratic initiative. So, it's going to be pretty interesting no matter what.

However, I've recently become aware of a movement that could ramp up the fascination factor to an even more absurd degree.

Reason being, one of the Senators taking a pass on re-upping is Evan Bayh (D-IN). And to be honest, I'm no real fan of his, so this doesn't bother me too much. Sure, he's a Democrat, and I usually vote that way. But in a political position contest (starting with Michael Moore, and moving toward the center), you'd see Bill Maher, Tim Robbins, Me, President Obama, Mary Landrieu (D-LA), and then Bayh, hanging out somewhere towards the fulcrum. So, as a progressive, he's sort of a mixed bag. He's in favor of things like alternative energy, promotion of agribusiness, and health care reform, but he plays it a lot closer to the vest on reproductive rights, the war in Afghanistan, and trade sanctions for problem countries. He's also not down with the party line on the President's Recovery Act. When asked about his future plans for his impending return to private life, he said, "If I could create one job in the private sector by helping to grow a business, that would be one more than Congress has created in the last six months."

Sick burn, dude. Also, total bullshit. And you're smart enough to know that, so pretty much fuck you.

What a "centrist" may look like.

Whatever keeps you warm at night I guess. Still and all, I'd like to see a little more truth and a lot less fence-riding, but these days, we take what we can get.

That said, I do still have a bit of an issue with his reasoning behind taking a powder. Because rather than employing any of the stock excuses so many retiring public servants trot out, Bayh had this to say at the press conference where he announced his intent to not seek re-election:

"After all these years, my passion for service to my fellow citizens is undiminished, but my desire to do so by serving in Congress has waned. There is too much partisanship and not enough progress; too much narrow ideology and not enough practical problem-solving. Even at a time of enormous challenge, the peoples' business is not being done."

So, in other words, rather than trotting out the hoary old (but automatically-unimpeachable) "wanting to spend more time with my family" cliché, he pretty much said he was bailing on politics because it was...partisan. Well, shit. You knew it was a snake when you picked it up, son. This is not the time to be taking a pass because it's too hard. If anything, you oughta rise to the challenge of doing the shit your constituency fucking elected you for in the first place, not pulling a Palin because you don't care for the working conditions. Bailing on Congress for being partisan is like quitting boxing because of all the punching.

"Makes sense to me, actually."

Naturally (as in the wake of any politician's retirement) a flood of wanna-be successors has come out of the proverbial woodwork to throw their collective hat into the ring in a bid for his soon-to-be-vacant seat. But amid the expected run-of-the-mill rogues' gallery of lawyers, activists, and lower-tier political climbers looking for a bigger office, there's another guy building buzz as a potential bidder. He's never held public office before, but he's about as beloved a local hero as Indiana has ever produced. And, no...I'm not talking about Letterman. I'm talking about a guy who was born in a small town, and still lives on the outskirts in a little pink eight-room farmhouse, baby. I speak, of course, of THIS guy:

"Who...ME? REALLY?!?"

Yes, him. Strange as it may sound, there is a movement afoot in the Hoosier State to draft him for the race. The newspapers are talking about it. CNN columnists are weighing in. And perhaps MOST significantly in the 21st century, there's a Facebook group with a snowballing membership. All of it exists in service of possibly seeing "Sen. J. Mellencamp (D-IN)" on a C-SPAN caption come November.

Granted, at first blush, it sounds pretty ridiculous. He's a rock star, for chrissakes...not a lawyer or a politician. What could he bring to the floor?

As it turns out, plenty.

Part of the reason why he's being talked about is that he's got a reputation for being quite politically active. He's played at Farm Aid, spoken out against mid-East conflict, and gotten involved with helping preserve veterans' benefits. He's publicly supported legislation that would help his state, regardless of which side of the aisle it originated on. In other words, he not only has his head on straight, but has actually worked on behalf of GENUINE "core American values," rather than just mislabeling party platform points as such, and then doing nothing but talking about them besides.

Plus, he gets credit for not forgetting where he came from...largely because you can't forget someplace you've really never left. Unlike a lot of celebrities with Midwestern roots, he didn't just say, "Piss off, you hicks" and split for Hollywood once the bucks came rolling in. He actually stayed. In fucking INDIANA. Shit, have you ever BEEN to Indiana? I have. And not only did I have zero desire to stay, I wanted to leave while I was busy leaving.

This here's the road out. You're gonna be drivin' awhile.

But the erstwhile Mr. Cougar put down some hefty roots, and then used his success to bolster the local economy. He shot his videos and recorded his albums at home, using area locations and resident talent. His band are all people he grew up with, and has known for decades. He plays globally, and invests locally.

And speaking of the locals...people in Indiana are deeply gay for their favorite son in return for his devotion. To hear them go on about him, one gets the sense that if he got arrested for fucking a 12-year-old Laotian boy who was both dead and actively on fire at the time, the local cops would most likely chalk it up to the "pressures of fame," and let him go by morning. And they'd apologize for the inconvenience as they gave him back the twine-bound bushel of weed and crate of automatic assault rifles they'd confiscated out of the back of his pickup the night before.

There is also reason to believe that this has already happened.

"Nuthin' but crazy rumors. Besides, they lost all the
files in that mysterious fire, anyway."

So, the general consensus is, should he run, he'd win in a landslide. And while Right-leaning political pundits blanch at the idea of an entertainment industry non-insider stirring shit up with all of their non-experience, most grassroots-level voters don't have a lot of basis to bitch. As a freshman Senator, Al Franken (D-MN) takes it to the hole on a near-daily basis despite his comedy background, and Congressman/Orleans lead vocalist John Hall (D-NY) has represented New York's 19th district for three years (as well as served on committees for Veterans' Affairs and Transportation and Infrastructure) despite having THIS in his back pocket. And besides, anytime a Republican decries "celebrities" running for shit, they conveniently choose to completely forget about Conan the Governor, Congressman "Gopher" Grandy (R-Love Boat) and that shellac-haired fella who did the movies with the chimp. I don't remember his name.

"That's okay. He had the same problem for awhile."

Point is, most of the reason why we're so fucking gridlocked on a national level in the first place is because of fucking career politicians. People who have no idea what it's like to struggle, and who have lost all touch with the people who live in their state or district...provided they had any to begin with. And at the end of the day, aren't politicians ostensibly supposed to represent their constituents, anyway? To serve as their surrogates? To, I dunno, be their peers on some level?

So, what would be so all-fired terrible about a guy in a denim shirt looking at things objectively, and with a fresh pair of eyes uncorrupted by the machine? Not to mention doing so from the perspective of the common, blue-collar person who's just trying to eke out a living? And sure, while he may be wicked rich now, he got there by singing authentic songs about NOT having a pot to piss in. That's his whole background. To say nothing of the fact that he could USE some of those cash reserves he's earned doing that to mount quite the campaign...totally independent of special-interest contributions.

Still not sold? Okay, fine. His wife is just as popular. She's driven a pace car at the Indy 500, promotes local multi-culturalism, is a vocal peace activist, and sits on the board of the local childrens' museum. Also, they've been married for 17 years, and he's managed to NOT put "Little John" into anyone else during that span of time, as far as we can tell.

Okay, fine. She's wicked hot, too.

You happy, now? Because I sure as hell am.

To top it all off, as far-fetched as this scenario is, it's a lot more plausible than some people might realize. See, in a pretty douche move, Evan Bayh announced he wasn't running for re-election on February 15th...After it was already too late for any potential challengers to assemble the paperwork necessary to run for his seat in the primaries. So, the Indiana Democratic State Committee has to convene and pick someone as the party nominee. They're required by law to wait until after the state primary date on May 4th. BUT. Whomever they choose is the Democrat who takes on the Republican candidate picked by THEIR primary election. So, they sort of hold all the cards. They have the luxury of waiting long enough to divine who their GOP challenger is going to be, and then picking the person who has the best chance of beating him or her in the generals.

And sure, Mellencamp doesn't HAVE to run if tapped. It's up to him. But this is the guy who wrote "Rain on the Scarecrow," "Our Country," and "Melting Pot," for the sake of fuck. And if anyone thinks a dyed-in-the-wool, workingman's-man like him wouldn't seize the opportunity to make a difference on an even bigger scale than he could with a benefit concert or charity fundraiser? If you think he WOULDN'T buy a cowboy hat, pile into his F-150, and drive across the state knocking on doors, saying "Yessir," "No ma'am" and "thank you" while eating homemade pie at kitchen tables...? Then maybe you should go irrigate your lobotomy scar.

"OK BRB LOL"

Personally, I'd love to see it. The power of a campaign like that would be devastating to the Right. There's no way he could lose. A gritty, bona fide everyman, the same "real America" type the Republicans CLAIM to be so slavishly devoted to, and he'd be running on a Democratic ticket? Awesome. Then, once inside, I think he'd bring a GENUINE down-to-earth ethic to Congress, as opposed to the ersatz baby-kissing variety that most politicians try to pass off as authenticity in between $500 haircuts and $3,000-a-plate fundraising dinners.

And what does the man himself think of all this? So far, the response from the Mellan Camp has been a hearty "no comment."

"It's not as though I cotton to the idea of calling attention to myself in a
political context, y'know? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an inauguration
to play in front of a few million screaming Democratic voters."

No matter what, though...the GOP should lighten up. If John Mellencamp WERE to get elected to Congress, at the VERY least, they know he'd never try to filibuster. It's not that he'd necessarily be ideologically opposed to it...heavens, no. He'd just never be able to talk that long without heading out to the Capital steps for a smoke break.

R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A., indeed.

This Day in History

1983
A congressional commission released a report condemning the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II as a "grave injustice."

Other major findings from the report:

•Trail of Tears: "kind of a dick move"
•Abe Lincoln: "wicked tall"
•Ice Cream: "delicious"

1997
The Food and Drug Administration named six different birth control brands as safe and effective "morning-after" pills for preventing pregnancy before adding, "failing that, jumping up and down for 30 seconds immediately after doin' it should totally work, too."

2007
The Virginia General Assembly passed a resolution [VJR-728- SOWE'RECOOLNOWRIGHT?] expressing "profound regret" for the state's role in slavery.

Your Headlines for Wednesday, February 24th

Entertainment:












Former "Growing Pains" Star Andrew Koenig Still Missing
Friends and family holding out hope that "Boner" will pop up soon

Politics:












Dick Cheney Suffers 47th Heart Attack
Cardiologist Dr. William J. Masters of George Washington University Hospital calls recent emergency bypass operation, "Routine, successful, and the biggest test of the Hippocratic Oath I have faced in my entire career."

Sports:












U.S. Men's Olympic Hockey Team Sweeps Canada, Winning Three Games of Planned Five-Game Series
North-of-the-border medical facilities fill to capacity with attempted suicide patients (in related news, NHL viewership numbers down 6.2% for 2009 Stanley Cup finals)

Hot Sh!t: The Sleigh Bells - "Ring Ring"

Thanks to the "gem of the AM dial" for introducing this gem to my ears:

The Day I Lost My Faith in Humanity: Fashion Update

By Merton Sussex, Person of Interest

Right around the same time homo erectus shed his fur and started walking upright, early humans realized they needed clothing. So, they hollowed out a few mammoth skins in order to replace the thick coats that Charles Darwin had come along and so cruelly stripped them of, and everything was fine for awhile.

But eventually, humans also evolved taste. And at that point, we realized that clothes could be more than just protection from the elements, and against getting gored by sabre-toothed boars. And so it came to pass that clothing became something more than modesty-preservation with a built-in frostbite guard...It could also make something resembling a statement about the person inside of it. And so was born...

THE FASHION INDUSTRY.

Personally, I find the world of haute couture more amusing than anything. Reason being, it has about as much use for me as I do for it. In as much as we even acknowledge each other, it's with thinly-veiled disdain at best, and open contempt at worst. Ergo, most of the time, I dress in pretty utilitarian gear, more selected for comfort than appearance.

"Yeah...I know the invitation said 'formal wear.' That's why I'm wearing pants."

Yes, the world of fashion certainly is a hoot, what with its anorexic alien cat-walkers, hilariously impractical "that's gotta-be-a-joke" designs, and snooty devotees applauding every thrown-together getup in unison (as though nobody ever read them "The Emperor's New Clothes" as children). And yet, people still continue to take it seriously and treat it as though it matters. This, despite the fact that clothing has gotten so far away from its roots that the only homo erectus who'd be able to find a single thing to actually put on and wear is pretty much Isaac Mizrahi.

But occasionally, something so utterly ridiculous, so completely incomprehensible happens in that universe that it gets attention from even the most jaded of eye-rolling, over-it types. Something so bizarre that even Lady fucking GaGa would be taken aback...and she dresses like a scrapyard full of broken construction-site salvage and plays ringtones for a living.

She ought to be careful. Those things look like they could poke her face.

I know what you're thinking. "Is today one of those days, Unca Mert? IS it?!?"

But of course it is, my lovelies. Of course it is.

Recently, avant garde Spanish "fashion" designer Isabel Mastache débuted her new 2010 Fall line at a Madrid fashion show. And I WOULD say it got tongues wagging...but as you'll see, that may not exactly be an appropriate assessment.

Let's take a look at a few of her offerings, shall we? Oh, and as we go along, DO see if you can notice the one little over-the-top touch that was the impetus for this post. And don't worry if you miss it. Even if you do, I'll make sure you don't.

Meh. So far, so what? Buckethead can moonlight as a runway model if he wants to. His tie looks like it's suffering a slight allergic reaction, but whatever. A couple of Benadryl, and he'd still be able to hackey-sack on campus without drawing too much attention. Next?

Big deal. I've seen bath-mat jackets, teapot hats, and dresses made up of the aftermath of Christmas-morning unwrapping sessions a million times, lady. Bullshit's about as passé as balsamic vinegar. What else ya got?

Huh. And here I thought the Velveteen Rabbit was a carrier of scarlet fever. Apparently, it was actually leprosy. My bad.

Look, lady. I've got a schedule. Either you start making with something legitimately whack-a-doo, or I've got a navel that needs de-linting.

Okay, you're starting to get there. This guy looks like the product of an unholy union between Bob the Angry Flower and a Big Daddy. I guess that's just loopy enough for me to give you one more chance. So, hit me with your best shot.

This? This is IT? This is the best you've got? A beige suit with moldy pizza-hat and some wilted lilies? Are you even trying? I don't see -

Hey, wait a minute.

What the fuck?

Zoom in on those pants for a second...

Oh, sweet, bleeding mother of Christ. Really? REALLY?!?

So, it's come to this, has it? After a few centuries of clothing intended to cover our filthy, shameful genitals from open view, we're just gonna sew 'em onto the outside of our fucking trousers, now? Is THAT the plan?

Y'know, even in the Middle Ages, when dudes wore silver-studded codpieces their children could bathe in, and women wore corsets that pushed up their funbags higher than the Queen's net worth, the idea was only to accentuate the secondary sex characteristics for titillation value, not to rub them in your face. But if Isabel Mastache gets her way, you'll soon have to specify THREE sizes for your pants. Waist, inseam, and cockenballs. And what good is that? So much shock value, so little mystery.

Oh, and in case you think I'm making this up, I'm not. Here's the video. I'm not sure if this is safe for work or not. Guess it depends on where you work.


Sweet dreams, everyone. Try not to see that thing bobbing around in your face as you drift off.

Oh, and you're welcome.

On Newstands Today:

click pic to enlarge

This Day in History: February 22

At the end of the day, the Diary of Fools sees ourselves as an educational tool. The power of the internet to educate is unparalleled, and we want to use that power for the betterment of upcoming generations.

So, in an attempt to reach out to the scholastic community, today's "This Day in History" installment has been guest-written by Spencer Melman, an eighth-grader from Roosevelt Junior High in Johnsburg, Colorado. We supplied him with the day's events, and let him "fill in the blanks" using the tools and skills he's been taught by the American Public School system. I trust you'll all make him feel very welcome.

Take it away, Spencer!

Here's Spencer, smiling proudly in this year's school portrait.

1732: George Washington, first President of the United States, was born in the Virginia Colony.

ok i remeber him then he choped down like a penut tree with i thnk his woodin teeth or something exept then he dident lie bout it and then he inventted penut butter then after that

geoarge washington is dead now and he is on are money

1865: The state of Tennessee adopts a new constitution abolishing slavery.

dood slavory was totaly mest up i can't beleve white ppl pwnd black ppl and made em pick cotin and stuff why dident they just say NO and run away?? i bet they'd be fast like the fastst kid at my scool his nameis damian mitchell and hes black and he runs like really fast he set a recerd for track at scool

1987: Pop artist Andy Warhol dies at age 58.

ok i neveer herd o that gu b4 wat do U mean a POP artist liek what he dezined soda flavers or some thing LOL is he the d00d who desided that doctor peper has prunes in it? its totaly true bobby maggiano told me that a kid at his old scool DIED cuz he wouldent drink any thing but docter peper and then he pooped hmself to deth and thats why i don't ever drink that crap

wait can i say crap ???

crap crap fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckCFUCK ASSASS@$$@$$@$$ bghrtw i56 7ºyjny8oi79ut bbbbbbbbllbbbbbbbb!!!!!1111111 HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAaaaa




ps hayley donely smelss liek brokoly fart

One of Life's largest questions answered.

..If a website's code had a theme song, what would it be?

A question so magnamanous, to know the true treasure would be too jarring and tingling to the experience. However the brave souls at www.codeorgan.com have created an algorithm to answer this exact query.

If you're ready, listen to what the future sounds like.

Some other highlights include:

Foxnews.com- Not surprisingly sounding like christian rock music mixed with repressed sexuality and terrible breath.

Perezhilton.com- Tropical Island Gay Wedding Reception music?

Facebook.com- Overly dramatic and takes itself far too seriously. Yeah...that's about right.

Myspace.com- Dated and terribly unorganized.

Cracked.com- Just kidding fellas. We're all pals here.

Style Watch! Who Wore It Better?

Quizzes by Quibblo.com

The Day I Lost My Faith in Humanity: Pajama Jeans

It's just true: humans are getting lazier. And what's more, we as a species are just fine with that.

Now, don't get me wrong...There's nothing wrong with a spot of sloth once in awhile. Not being too big a fan of organized religion, I realize there's no such thing as "sin," much less seven deadly ones. All work and no play makes Jack Nicholson go apeshit nuts. I'd be hypocritical if I said otherwise, being as I am a man who appreciates the fair bit of leisure himself. Those highballs sure as shit ain't gonna drink themselves any more than the call girls are going to have sex with themselves.

(Well...wait. I mean, sometimes they do. It just runs you a little extra. But, I digress inexcusably.)

So, yes. Kicking back on occasion is just fine. But there is a LINE. A line at which a little R&R ceases to be the exception, and becomes a lifestyle. A line at which down time becomes ALL the time. A line that, once crossed, means people have just given the fuck up, and said, "Bring on the Comfort Wipe and Obesity Scooter, for I have decided I'd like a little blood in my butter-stream."

And that line is just a little closer today. Behold: "Pajama Jeans."


This is not a joke product, nor is it an SNL spoof. Things really actually have reached the point that this is a needed product. There really is a call for sweatpants...that look like jeans. And I guess anyone with eyes has probably figured that out by now. We've all stood in line at Target behind the woman in Crocs and garish flannel pajama pants. The one who did her hair with an eggbeater three weeks ago and hasn't touched it since. You know the one: she's wearing a Jeff Gordon NASCAR jacket, smells like room-temperature brie, and is buying a case of Mallomars and a few 2-liters of Dr. Pepper.

Hey, at least she matches. So she's doing better than most.

I'm not really sure how, or when this happened. It wasn't ALWAYS that way. Used to be, men didn't leave the house without wearing 27 pounds' worth of a wool three-piece suit, and women knew the neighbors would talk if they were seen out and about without at least a pinafore dress and full sleeves. Plus, they had HATS ON. And SHOES. Shoes that required SHINING.

And I'm not one of these cultural revisionists who thinks that the good old days were universally good, that "Leave It To Beaver" and "Ozzie and Harriet" reflect some cultural ideal that society ought to strive to get back to. "Mad Men" may be celebrated as a delicious slice of throwback, but let's face it: the whole era was chock full of sexual harassment, gender inequity, repressed sexuality, spousal abuse, and more than a little lung cancer. But FUCK, they looked good while all that shit was going on under the surface! There was no occasion too small; none that didn't require a sharp mode of dress, a put-together flair, and an air of class and sophistication. People may have been uptight and miserable, but at least they had style.

In fact, here is a picture of my grandparents on their way to the greengrocer's.

Then, somewhere along the line, Jeans became acceptable. Okay, fine. Then, people started wearing them to work on Fridays. Then, every day. Up to this point, I'm still okay with this, because there is a big, fat line between "casual" and "slovenly." It's possible to look composed, and still be comfortable.

However, at what point did it become acceptable for people to just roll out of bed, and then GO RIGHT STRAIGHT THE FUCK OUTSIDE?!? Sweatsuits are supposed to be workout gear, motherfucker. If I see you in a sweatsuit, your ass had better be in a gym parking lot. However, based on the fact that your spare tire looks like it came off of a piece of heavy mining equipment, I'm gonna guess you wouldn't be caught DEAD (and I mean that literally) anywhere that close to a place where there are working treadmills.

Exhibit F: "The exception that proves the rule."

I dunno. It's possible that I'm seeing this the wrong way. I'm willing to allow that perhaps the inventors of "Pajama Jeans" aren't exactly encouraging lethargy, but rather condemning it. Maybe they're just cynical enough to REALLY be saying, "Here, you lazy pieces of shit. If you're just going to waddle directly out of your bedroom in the same getup you went to sleep in, the LEAST you can do is to put THESE on. That way I don't have to deal with looking at your fucking spaceship PJ's or filthy track suit." It's wholly within the realm of plausibility that jammy-jeans are largely motivated by a "for-chrissakes-at-least-meet-us-halfway" attitude that says if you're not going to make the effort to BE presentable, the LEAST you can do is to try to LOOK presentable. To provide a reasonable facsimile of human dignity that holds up under cursory scrutiny, and maybe even score a couple of bucks of profit in the bargain.

However, my curse of raw pragmatism shapes my illusory free will, and dictates my reaction. And that is: anything that makes it easier for the whole of Western society to continue its long, slow, de-evolutionary slide into a giant, shiny pile of utter pudding-sacks who never need to bother being besotted by anything so base as discomfort or strenuous activity MUST be decried as being "part of the problem."

That said, I have to knock off. It's getting pretty close to lunchtime.

Friday Funk: Roy Ayers

As everybody from Tribe to The Beatnuts to Madlib knows, the Roy Ayers catalog is some of the most fertile loop-digging ground in existence. As evidence, I'd like to introduce to you exhibits "A" - a sick, sick, SICK battle of the vibes between Mr. Ayers and Dwight Gassaway (the chubby brutha) and "B" - one of my all-time favorites, "Funk in the Hole".

And seriously, even if you typically disregard this segment because funk isn't "your thing" (lamerz), I highly recommend at least checking out this first vid… it transcends the game:

Great Moments in Fat History: Kevin Smith Gets the Boot

By now, you know the story. It's one that's really lit up the 'tubes the last few days. And when a story about a prominent celebrity getting kicked off an airplane for being too fat gets around the internet, it really gets around the internet.

For the uninitiated:

Renowned indie auteur/screenwriter Kevin Smith (he of "Clerks," "Chasing Amy" and the upcoming "Cop Out") was recently "asked" to disembark a Southwest Airlines flight...for being too fat. The airline's contention was that his size posed a "security risk," being as in the event of an accident, other passengers would have difficulty getting around him to escape. Apparently lost in their reasoning was the fact that in your average airway disaster, having a spot of bother circumventing the portly fellow in the next seat is rarely an issue, on account'a the flames, flying debris, and giant sucking holes in the cabin hull all representing slightly more pressing concerns.

"Bitch, fuck the seat cushion. Use ME as a flotation device."

The ludicrous nature of Southwest's concerns notwithstanding, maybe they should have checked their records. Because all of this happened despite the fact that according to CNN, Mr. Smith is something of a frequent flier, having bought no less than 10 Southwest tickets just that week. maybe I'm nuts, but there's something to be said for that sort of frequent-flyership.

The thing is, Smith KNOWS he's a tub of shit. He refers to himself as such constantly. In his series of laugh-out-loud funny "An Evening with Kevin Smith" DVD's (featuring college and general-audience Q&A's), he outlines his struggles with his weight in hilariously self-deprecating detail. Shit, he writes movies where the other characters refer to his as "Tubby" and "Tons-o'-Fun." Even so...acknowledging your body issues on your OWN terms is one thing...but making headlines for them is something else entirely.

"I'm sad. And you wouldn't LIKE me when I'm sad."

More tragic yet is that the aforementioned ten tickets were all for him...And he'd bought them for a total of five flights. Which means that he had ALREADY copped to their asinine policy that passengers deemed "too fat to fly" are required to purchase a whole extra seat in order to accommodate their girth. Seats he didn't even really NEED (because he was more than able to fit in the seat, as well as buckle the safety belt), but that they forced him to buy anyway.

So what was the problem? Well, he got bumped to standby on the flight in question. No problem...frequent travelers know this kind of shit happens. But when they found him a seat on a different flight, it was just one seat. Which means, in essence, that he paid for TWO seats, and in fact received ZERO.

So, you see.

The backlash was swift and immediate. It wasn't just that Southwest had fucked over a prominent celebrity...It was that they had fucked over a prominent, internet-savvy, self-aware and unapologetically self-promoting celebrity with legions and legions of slavishly devoted followers...all of whom had undeniable geek cred, and all of which were more than ready to set the entire internet on fire with scathing invective condemning Southwest as the second coming of HitlerSatan. All they needed was a dispatch from their Fearless Leader in the form of a Tweet, message board post, podcast or blog.

All of which is what they got.

"Fly, my monkeys...FLY!"

It's been entertaining watching the P.R. department of Southwest fall all over themselves trying to backpedal, apologize and do damage control in the wake of this. Point is, they fucked over the wrong random fat dude, and it bit them in their asses. Smith is standing up for himself, refusing to back down, and scorching the earth with the power of his raw hatred. And the world is feeling his power.

And if THAT doesn't qualify as a Great Moment in Fat History, I don't know what would.

Your Headlines for Wednesday, February 17th

World-
Scientists reveal the cause of death for young King Tut. Apparently boy king died of loving* too much.

*Loving to kill slaves. (Too soon?)
















Olympics-
Lindsey Vonn battles shin injury to take Gold, and more importantly, give me a boner.













Security-
TSA Announces random explosives inspections including palm swabs now part of routine checkups (if you're brown.)

Reader Feedback: Upcoming Features

Let it never be said that the Diary doesn't have our collective finger firmly on the pulse of our burgeoning readership. To that end, we've been tossing some ideas for new features around, and we just can't decide where we want to go next.

So, in order to better serve you, please take a moment to vote on your favorite of the following concepts we've brainstormed. After the votes are in, we'll take your opinion into consideration when deciding where we go from here. Probably.

Thanks in advance!

Stoner Confucius says...

Learn as though you would never be able to master it; Hold it as though you would be in fear of losing it; smoke as though the cops are going to bust in at any second and totally harsh your buzz.

This Day in History

1947

The Voice of America begins broadcasting in the Soviet Union with the debut of the program Stalin Rapes Your Kitten.

1976
The Eagles release Their Greatest Hits (1971-75), easily outselling Seals and Crofts' Sadly,The Best They Could Do (1969-1974)

1992
Serial Killer Jeffrey Dahmer was sentenced in Milwaukee to life in prison/death by inmate shanking, whichever came first.

Today's Celebrity Birthday
39 years ago, actress Denise Richards is pushed through the loins of the demon goddess from whence she was conceived.