Magic Jewball

When I was a kid, I used to imagine that all my favorite rock stars were Jewish. You know, so I could marry them. My mother told me that Simon LeBon could be a Jewish name and I ran with that. But even my pre-adolescent brain could figure out that for those purposes, it didn’t really matter either way whether or not Boy George was Jewish. Still, I was impressed when in the Do You Really Want to Hurt Me video, he showed up wearing a shirt (ok, it was more like a tunic/sweatshirt thing) that said Culture Club in Hebrew. Sure, the words were reversed so they were meaningless. But that was minor.

Now that George has hit the lowest mark a person can achieve in a lifetime, picking up garbage in the streets of New York City (and we have a lot), we get our yearly look at just how horribly a person can age. But this time I noticed something different, as I’m sure you did if you happened to see this picture on Gawker (where I stole it from).

Yes, there’s a big-ass Star of David on George’s giant bald head. Way to out-Esther Madonna! Red string indeed. This guy has a full-size tattoo on his head! But quite frankly, I think he has it all wrong. Look, George, you live in New York now. You can’t have helped noticing that our enemies seem to come at us from above. Do you really want a kind of Jewish identification on the top of your head? Is that smart? Oh right, you’re currently sweeping the streets. But seriously, party Ortho-style and just wear a little kipa. Sure, it’s less fabulous, but your fabulous days are really over, aren’t they?

But I guess this is more convenient and everything. I mean, it must be a pain to be sweeping up trash when your kipa falls into the pile. That’s got to suck.

Title comes from Nine Inch Nails’ Head Like A Hole, of course, but we’ll save that for another day.

Culture Club – Do You Really Want 2 Hurt Me

Just a day or so after writing that last post, a song came on my iPod which was actually more acid and sarcastic than Debonair. But more on this later.

So World Cup Lisa wrote me to say she was pleased I hadn’t wasted my energy writing about Mel Gibson. I dunno, I wasn’t really interested until she said that and so I decided to waste a bit of energy talking about it. Y’know, hearing the news that Mel Gibson is an anti-Semite is akin to hearing the news that Lance Bass is gay. Wow, that came out of left field! Who could have guessed?

But it’s an interesting time to talk about old drunkass Mel because tonight begins a Jewish day of mourning called Tisha B’Av (the ninth of Av - no relation to the fourth of July). In a bizarre coincidence, 98% of the tragic things that happened to the Jewish people all seemed to happen on the same day. Actually, since we fast on this day, maybe it’s a great thing that they all happened on just one day. There’s only so many days you can abstain from food and we already have six.

Anyway, here are just a few of the hit parade of tragedies:

• First Temple in Jerusalem destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE
• Second Temple in Jerusalem destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE
• Expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492

So it isn’t weird to be thinking about Mel Gibson and his anti-Semitic tirade this week. I’m not sure there’s anything in Jewish history about calling a female cop “sugar tits,” however. Either way, I really just feel sorry for people who are this ignorant. It’s 2006, get a clue. Sure, we control Hollywood. That’s why we made sure to put out a movie like “The Passion of the Christ” which inspired a whole new generation to want to kill us!

Anyway, speaking of Hollywood, let’s get back to the song I was talking about. One day, long long ago, on a planet far away, that is, Los Angeles, I was waiting on line at the El Rey to get into a show by one of the bands on my then-label. When I say waiting on line, I mean in my rental car, waiting for the valet parking guy to relieve me of it. While I was doing that, I noticed in the actual line to get in was standing none other than Maynard James Keenan of Tool. He wasn’t with anyone. No one was talking to him. As a matter of fact, through business I have seen Maynard several times and each time he was standing by himself, talking to no one.

But as I said, I had a lot of time to watch him taking in that whole unique LA scene of plastic looking people, music industry weasels, posers, has-beens, wannabes, etc. I mean, he lives there and all so what does he think of it? About a year later this song came out and then I knew.

Song not available on Napster.

Should you be the sensitive type, please be warned that like most Tool songs, this one has a truckload of profanity.

Audio to Tool - Aenema removed for space considerations.

Lyrics

Yesterday I had lunch with my friend who works at CNN. Of course I was psyched because we work just blocks apart and yet have been doing the “we really should have lunch” thing for over a year. But I was also excited, being the mediawhore that I am, to see the CNN digs. You may remember my fond remarks about Pat Kiernan on NY1. Yep, CNN owns them too.

When I was in Atlanta some years ago I took the whole CNN tour. I got to see Sachi Koto reading the news right in front of me! And a couple of years ago I was just walking along, minding my own business in front of the Time Warner Center when lo and behold, there was Jeannie Moos doing a piece right there on the street. I have kind of a girl-crush on Jeannie Moos. She’s funnier than I’ll ever be. So I yelled out, “Jeannie Moos, you rock!” It was kind of spontaneous. She called me over and interviewed me for her piece which was about former President Clinton. I can’t be more specific than that because then you’ll find the video on their site and see me. Luckily, as you’d know if you read the first paragraph, I have a friend at CNN, so I was able to get a copy.

But back to yesterday. I forgot my camera but that’s OK. I have a feeling they wouldn’t have taken too kindly to me documenting the place pictorially on my blog. Hell, the security was comparable to getting on an El Al flight. I had to show a picture ID several times, they printed me out a badge, and gave me yet another badge to hand to the security guy not 10 feet away. I guess they’d heard about my fondness for Pat Kiernan. This is in stark contrast to my building, where a certain famous rapper once came and tried to off an executive with several heavy objects from said executive’s own office. And yet, anybody could get in here. They really know how to keep people from killing you at CNN. You have to admire that in a company.

And I know I’ve said before that the mall part of the center is plush, but man, they should film the Apprentice there or something. First off, there was CNN on in the elevator. If we played our music in the elevators here, well, I think the building would sue us. In the waiting area there was a bank of fancee screens playing various Time Warner channels. Fortunately for me, the sound was off on the one showing Becker on TBS.

Then there is their cafeteria. I mean, they have that fantastic Whole Foods in the basement and yet, they still have a gourmet caf with lots of tasty choices as well as a mind-blowing view of Central Park. Man, I wished I had my camera. Next time. Strangely, you are not allowed to use cash at the CNN cafeteria, I assume because Ted Turner never carries any. You have to load bucks onto a special card and use that. I guess with times as they are over there, they need the interest-free loan on your card balance.

One of the food areas is designated as the “International” food bar. The country of the day was “Meze.” Despite being graduates of good colleges, neither my friend nor I had any idea there was a country called Meze. Based on the sorts of food that was offered, we assumed it was an Arabic nation. Well, according to Wikipedia, it’s a cuisine, not a country, you fools!

“A Mezze (Turkish Meze), in eastern Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cuisine, is a selection of appetizers or small dishes taken with alcohol, similar to tapas of Spain.”

Sadly, there was no alcohol. Can you imagine if Anderson Cooper got wasted before his 360 show? I think not.

On a whole other topic, I have a hard time asking friends and family for money. This is one reason I don’t run “athons,” the other being that I’m lazyass and out of shape. But for me personally, I am extremely anal about money and have a strict budget. I was in debt for a long, long time (Who gives a credit card to a college student making $25 a week? Oh right, everyone.) and am enjoying my sixth year of other-than-mortgage, debt-free living. I have a certain amount set aside for charitable giving. So when friends run charity races, well, it diverts money from other causes I want to give to, like Doctors Without Borders (they really need a “Run For the Border”) or my high school, which desperately needs money. Because I like my friends and family, I end up giving a lot of money to disease research, which is what most of these runs are for. A worthy cause, no doubt, but not the only one.

But I recognize that not everyone is like this. Some people have ten bucks between the cushions of their couch and just need to hear that their friend is running five miles to motivate them to go digging for it. It is to these people that I address the following.

Some of the freaks, er, friends who are part of my online community are running the Susan G. Komen race for Breast Cancer research in Boston this year, as they did last year. Even if my Mom hadn’t had the last five years of her life ruined by this disease that ultimately killed her, I’d suggest you scrounge up that money and send it over to them. Why? Because many of them are Jewball readers, and, hey, my stalker stats would be empty without them. No, seriously, they are fantastic people who are using cancer research as an excuse to drink and party for an entire weekend. So if you have a few dollars lying around that you were going to buy a latte with today, why not send it over to some hot chicks running their asses off for a good cause? The website to give is here.

Speaking of asses, have you ever wanted a piece of Hot Blogger’s ass? That is, my BlogMentor, DuchessJane? Who wouldn’t! Now you can have it AND donate to this cause! So should you have a week’s worth of latte money and a desire to have your message advertised all over the city of Boston, please see this.

OK, time for the song of the day. Obviously, the post title is a tweak on a line from A Day in the Life but the Beatles don’t license their music to download services such as Napster. It’s OK, I’m sure you’ve got Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in your collection. And since I couldn’t find a song about CNN, let’s go with “you’re like a disease without any cure.”

James - Laid

Shocking, isn’t it? But I post this in tribute to my anonymous designer who put together the logo you now see in the header. This excruciating gesture on my part, I hope, will adequately show my gratitude. It was my design but the execution was all his. This is not to say he isn’t good at design, however. Witness the below, which cracked me up completely every time I thought of it for several days.

Rock on, anonymous designer, rock on.

To follow up, I assume everyone knows that David Blaine did not break the world’s record for underwater breath-holding, a humanity changing feat of strength. Oh, my schadenfreude knows no bounds. I shut off my Law & Order Season 2 DVD long enough to watch the last 20 minutes of the show and I think the thing that amazed me the most was this. The camera panned to a boyish-looking dude in the crowd who the announcer informed us was the brother of David Blaine. He had graduated NYU the previous day, just steps away in, I presume, Alice Tully Hall. He looked concerned and chagrined. I naturally assumed his thoughts were these:

I can’t believe you do one stunt a year and you couldn’t even arrange it around my college graduation. I mean, it was right here, putz. Couldn’t you have rolled over, hamster-ball style, and seen me enter the real world?

But, such is the life of a world class pseudo-magician’s brother.

In other news, should you share my love of New Order, or if my Confusion video and incessant blather have piqued your interest, please do check out the article about them on Slate.com. It was such a pleasant surprise; it seemed apropos of absolutely nothing. They even highlighted my favorite moment of any New Order song, Bernard Sumner cracking up at his own ridiculous lyrics. If their snippet isn’t enough for you, check out the entire song below.

New Order - Every Little Counts

Remember my photo of Avery Fisher Hall? I don’t know who Avery Fisher was, but his Hall is part of Lincoln Center, a complex of arts buildings which is the home of such cultural delights as the Metropolitan Opera, the New York City Ballet, and the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. I have seen both an opera and a ballet there, mostly so I could tell people that I had. It used to be the gritty neighborhood where West Side Story was set and filmed. Then they tore down all those buildings and killed all the people so that we could enjoy Mostly Mozart. Something like that; I’m a little sketchy, it was all before I was born.

Anyway, I often pass it, either because it’s on my way home if I’m walking or because it’s near my own cultural touchstones, Tower Records and Gracious Home. This Friday, there was a bit of a scene. Here’s what it looked like.

That little marble-looking thing in the background? That’s David Blaine, the magician, showman, or whatever. He’s in a globe of water. Fun! I’m kind of shocked he picked the Upper West Side for this stunt, as we’re not exactly known as the place for huge touristy-type things. It’s mostly residential. But I guess Times Square was booked. And this area is the snootier part of the Upper West Side, too. As a matter of fact, while I was standing there, a large white limo pulled up, a fancy suit guy and slinky-haired blonde woman got out, and away they walked in the opposite direction. Sorry, David!

But there was actually a queue to stick a camera in David Blaine’s face and “touch” your hand to his. I didn’t even wait on line to meet Interpol at Tower Village so you can bet this wasn’t going to merit my time. Instead, I let my lens do the zoom-in.

I think this one’s my favorite, mostly because it seems like these particular guys were taking a break from a Fitty Cent video shoot when they decided to line up to see the The Man In The Bubble.

But I needed to get closer. I wanted to see all that pruney skin I had heard about.

How about this one? You just know this girl on the left is gazing at Bubble-Man’s muscles as he reaches out for her friend’s boob.

No, no, still not close enough. No other people, just the crazy guy.

There we go. His skin looks disappointingly smooth. What a shame.

Everyone always wants to know the same thing about David Blaine. How does he go to the bathroom in there? Yes, that’s the level of discourse these days. But because I love you, I did a little research and found out that he fasted for five days previous to this so that there would be no solid waste in the tank. Phew! Because if you’ve ever had a fish tank, you know that can get messy. Plus, you know, there would be fewer people lining up to get a look. Or more, which would be even more horrifying.

But the real question, at least to me, is why? What is the point of all this? I guess it’s to prove that a human can test his limits and go the distance. I like to see that proved via Olympic bobsledding, personally, but to each his own. Then I saw a commercial on ABC that there’s going to be a special about this. Now I get it. The purpose is actually to prove that a human can test his limits and go the distance by making the most money doing the stupidest thing possible! That clears everything up, thanks.

Was this song in your head while you were reading that first paragraph? If not, now it is!

Jet Song