A group called the Tennessee Center for Policy Research has obtained copies of Al Gore's electric bills for the year 2006. The average home in the US, according to the US Dept. of Energy, consumes about 10,600 kilowatt-hours (kWh) in a year. In 2006, Al Gore's 20,000 sq. ft. home in Nashville consumed over 220,000 kWh, 20 times the national average. In the month of August, his home consumed over 20,000 kWh, twice the amount that your home consumes in ONE YEAR.

In addition to his Virginia home he also owns a 4,000 sq. ft. home in Virginia. His secondary home is larger than my primary (and only, BTW) home. And he likes to fly around the country in a private jet giving speeches.

Some have tried to defend his actions, saying that he has tried to reduce his "carbon footprint" and purchases "carbon offsets" to further reduce his "carbon footprint." What this means, (I think) is that you pay money to help produce clean energy like wind power or methane-produced power. So you don't really REDUCE your energy consumption, you maintain the same level and help pay to produce clean energy for others to use...eventually.

Now, I'm not bothered by his actual energy consumption. Hell, he's rich, he can leave his air conditioner on all day long if he wants. (In the summer I set mine to 85 degrees during the day and turn it to a comfortable level when we're home, vice versa during the winter. I wonder if Al Gore fiddles with his thermostat when he heads out.) He can hop on a Boeing Business Jet (a 737 converted for private use, John Travolta has one) and just fly himself and his two pilots around if he wants. What drives me absolutely FUCKING BONKERS, though, is that this guy gets up on a soapbox and tells us we must REDUCE. Implores us to travel by Mass Transit and carpool whenever possible. Use wind power, buy a Hybrid car, use bio-fuel. Anything, but do it and do it right fucking now BEFORE ITS TOO LATE! Why does Al Gore (apparently) feel that this applies to peons like me, but doesn't exactly lead by example?

You'd think that if global warming were such a dire threat, maybe HE could live in a home that is a little less wasteful of energy, maybe HE could drive instead of fly, hop on a commercial flight if he HAD to fly.

Ask yourself this, if it were YOU living in the 20,000 sq. ft. home, flying on private jets, spending almost a quarter million dollars in energy bills, if it were YOU instead of Al Gore, what do you think his opinion of your energy usage and carbon footprint would be? Would you need to justify everything by going around and telling everyone else to drive a Prius? Would that make it okay?

IED Factory Found In Iraq
US Military personnel Monday found an assembly factory for roadside bombs and other explosive devices. Among the items found were 120mm mortar shells and 122mm rockets. According to US military officials, markings on these items indicated that they were manufactured in Iran AFTER the US invasion of Iraq.

1) A group of former astronauts and cosmonauts warn that the asteroid Apophis could hit earth around the year 2036, and they want the United Nations to do something about it. Considering that the United Nations could manage my local Papa John's, I guess I don't really need to worry about saving for retirement.

2) Scurvy pirate sea captain recounts the day he caught a real-life sea monster. Okay, so he was actually just the captain of a New Zealand trawler. But the sea monster was real, the largest Giant Squid specimen ever taken, that's pretty cool.

3) Tom Vilsack announced today that he is dropping out of the Presidential race. Uhhh, who? What was he...like, the Zoroastrian Goat Fucker candidate for President or something? Who the hell is this guy?

Dick Cheney knows 10 different ways to kill a man. Dick Cheney bloody RULES.

There, now I feel better. Think I'm going to head home from work today and spend the evening with a six-pack of Shiner Bock and watch Baseketball for about the 100th time. My wife can come along too, if she wants.

To quote Stan Marsh, "Damn, dude. This is pretty fucked up right here."

Behind the door of Army Spec. Jeremy Duncan's room, part of the wall is torn and hangs in the air, weighted down with black mold. When the wounded combat engineer stands in his shower and looks up, he can see the bathtub on the floor above through a rotted hole. The entire building, constructed between the world wars, often smells like greasy carry-out. Signs of neglect are everywhere: mouse droppings, belly-up cockroaches, stained carpets, cheap mattresses.

This is a two-part series of articles, you can read Part 2 here. Please take a few minutes out of your day and read them.

The next time you hear someone mention a $5,000 ski trip with a Congressman, a $2500 Super Bowl party with a Senator, or Nancy Pelosi demanding taxpayers pay for her own private jet, think about these soldiers and Marines and the kind of bullshit they have to deal with. And the fact that these political whores are more concerned with lining their own pockets than making sure that those men and women who volunteered to serve our country get the treatment and support that they deserve...that they EARNED.

Being a New Orleans politician, this is hardly the first questionable set of circumstances in Jefferson's political career. Of course, the fine citizens of Louisiana punished this shady behavior by reelecting him to office in 2006.

(You can keep up with this ongoing saga here.

Now correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the Democrats DEMAND that Trent Lott resign because of a stupid comment he made during a senile old man's birthday party? I didn't think he should have resigned, but I did think he should have stepped down as the majority leader, which he did.

William Jefferson has been caught basically accepting a bribe, has a history of shady deals and brokering kickbacks, and for that The Most Ethical Congress in History gives him a seat on the Committee that oversees the fucking DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY?

Senator Bill Nelson (D-FL) held a Super Bowl party where lobbyists could pay to party with the Senator, for only $5000. Republican Mel Martinez is held a similar get together at Disney World.

That is just one example of the ways lobbyists are now giving pay offs to congressmen. $5000 gets you a Colorado ski trip with Tom Carper (D-DE). For $2500 you can have coffee with Representative Eric Cantor (R-VA). You can pay $1500 for the privilege of attending a Washington Wizards game with Rep. Charlie Gonzalez (D-TX). Under the new ethics rules, lobbyists are prohibited from paying directly for a congressman's travel and lodging. How is this any different? It sure as HELL not more ethical. These political parasites are still beholden to the person or corporation with the biggest pocketbook, all at the expense of you and me.

Radio Gawds
Today on Walton and Johnson they were discussing the news that the owner of the salon that shaved Britney Spears' hair is auctioning off the leftover hair, half a can of Red Bull, and a cigarette lighter she left behind. The starting bid is $1 million. Talking about how ridiculous that was, Walton was saying "I don't know if I'd pay $1 million dollars if I was bending her over the desk right now and fornicating with her and had someone like Oliver Stone filming it for all the world to see." Billy Ed paused for a minute and said "I'm trying to think who I know that could loan me the money."

Greatest radio show on the planet.

Opponents are saying whining "How are you supposed to determine who is loitering in the left lane?" The answer...who the fuck cares? If you think you are man (or woman) enough to drive in the left lane like an adult, you should be making every effort to get out of that lane once you're done passing whatever made you get over in the passing lane in the first place. A good rule of thumb is, if you're in the left lane with a car behind you, are not passing another vehicle, and will not be in position to pass another vehicle for the next 20 seconds, MOVE THE FUCK OVER!

Others say, "Why should you have to move over if you're going the speed limit? The other drivers are obviously speeding and should not be." The answer to that is that YOU are not the police, it is not YOUR job to enforce the speed limit. If someone wants to barrel down the interstate at 85 mph, it ain't your job to stop them. Your ONLY job is to maintain control of your own vehicle, operate it in a safe manner and not impede the the progress of other drivers.

For those of you who don't know, actress Dakota Fanning appears in the indy film "Hounddog." The film is set in Tennessee circa 1955, and 12-year old Fanning portrays a 9-year old girl who likes Elvis. In the film, Fanning's character is raped by a 20-year old man who delivers milk to her home. Fanning actually participated in shooting the simulated-rape scene, dressed in a nude-colored body suit.

I'm not bothered by the fact that the filmmakers wanted to depict the rape of a child. Brutal acts like that happen everyday, and I don't mind when someone wants to try and show horrors like this on fim. I AM bothered by the fact that the filmmakers felt an actual minor had to participate in filming the scene. Filmmaking techniques are such that a child rape could be portrayed on film without a minor ever having to set foot on the set.

What I bothered by most, though, is the adults in this young girl's life...her parents, her agent...the people who are supposed to be taking responsibility for this CHILD had no problem with her participation in this process. Here I am, father of two, worried about how I'm going to tell my six year old son that his fucking cat is dead, and the people responsible for protecting and sheltering Dakota Fanning are gung-ho for this CHILD to participate in this act in this process.

NOTE: I originally had the word "rape" in the title, and I guess tblog censored that.

Salt Lake Police spokesman Robyn Snyder said about this case, "We will pursue every single lead. There is not one lead we are not willing to pursue. At this point, we don't have any idea of any motive. Nothing is ruled out." The FBI and Salt Lake PD are supposedly coordinating efforts in investigating the case. However, Snyder stated that she was not aware that the killer, Sulejman Talovic, had been attending Friday prayers at a mosque about a block from the shooting (reported in the Salt Lake Tribune).

The article goes on to give evidence that the FBI seems to have a habit of not mentioning terrorism in cases like this:

Back on July 4, 2002, when Egyptian Hesham Mohamed Hadayet shot and killed two people and wounded three other at Los Angeles International airport, an FBI spokesman at first stated the FBI had no reason to believe the attack had anything to do with terrorism. A London-based Arabic language newspaper reported less than a week after the shooting that Hadayet had met twice with Ayman al-Zawahiri and was also a member of the Egyptian jihad group, Jihad Islami. However, the FBI waited until September to rule that the attack was terror-linked.

In July, 2006, Naveed Afzal Haq entered the building of the Jewish Federation of Greater Seattle and opened fire, killing 1 and wounding five others. The killer announced "I'm a Muslim American, I'm angry at Israel" before opening fire. In a 911 call, Haq said "These are Jews and I’m tired of getting pushed around and our people getting pushed around by the situation in the Middle East." The FBI and Seattle police determined that it appeared that the killer acted as an individual instead of part of a larger organization and that the incident was a "hate crime" rather than terrorism. FBI SAC David Gomez said, "There’s nothing to indicate that it’s terrorism-related."

What's happening here, I believe, is a symptom of a larger problem in America. We're apprehensive to declare something as terrorism for fear of insulting Muslims. When are we, as a country, going to wake up and realize that there are people in this world that want to kill you...me...us? They want to kill you because you are Jewish. They want to kill me because I'm an infidel. They want to kill us because WE are not like them. They are not Baptists, they're not Catholics, nor Buddhists or Hindus. They're Muslims. They're terrorists.

The sub-plot involves Mr., well, "Mrs." Garrison being forced to teach evolution to her class. "Mrs." Garrison is opposed to the idea because she doesn't believe in evolution. Her resulting lesson had me rolling on the floor when I first saw it. I heard it again on the radio, and my co-workers wondered why I was hysterical with laughter. This one cracks me up every time I hear it:

Alright, kids, it is now my job to teach you the Theory of Evolution. Now I for one believe that evolution is a bunch of BULLCRAP...but I've been told I have to teach it anyway. It was thought up by Charles Darwin and it goes something like this...

In the beginning, we were all fish, okay, swimming around in the water. And then one day a couple of fish had a RETARD baby, and the retard baby was different so it got to live. So Retard Fish goes on to make more retard babies, and then one day Retard Baby Fish crawls out of the ocean with its...mutant FISH hands, and it had butt-sex with a squirrel or something and made THIS...Retard Frog Squirrel, and then that had a retard baby which was a...Monkey Fish Frog, and then this monkey fish frog had butt-sex with that monkey, and that monkey had a mutant retard baby that screwed another monkey, and that made YOU.

So there you go...you're the retarded offspring of five monkeys having butt-sex with a fish squirrel...Congratulations!

What is reality? What is YOUR reality? What does the world around you consist of? From a quick visual observation, my world at this moment consists of a computer monitor right in front of me, the chair in the corner across from my desk. A mug with weak coffee next to my keyboard. The radio on my desk blaring talk radio. The heating unit in the other room struggling to keep the air temperature at something resembling a comfortable level.

Seems pretty concrete. But consider this...those concrete, tangible things exist in the real world, but I only know that they are there because of the data my sense are collecting and feeding to that lump of gray matter between my ears. I know the chair is there because light is reflecting off the chair, my eyes see this reflection and feed that information to my brain, and it tells me that there is a chair there. I know that the radio is making sound because sound waves are bouncing off my eardrums, causing them to vibrate. My brain interprets those vibrations, the permutations of which are staggering, and tells me that the talk show host is talking or there's a great sale on used cars pre-owned automobiles. The most interesting thing here is that you are not being manipulated physically by the object in question, but merely by some sort of disturbance (light reflection in the case of seeing, and vibration in the case of sound) that your mind interprets as an object.

Smell, taste, and touch are different, because there is some physical interaction with the object. I can tell the handle of my mug is cold because the relatively warmer molecules of my hand vibrate faster than the molecules on the mug's handle. My brain interprets this difference as "cold." I can tell that the coffee is hot because the molecules in the coffee vibrate very fast in relation to the molecules of my tongue, and my brain interprets this as "hot." I can tell that I'm drinking coffee because particles from the coffee embed themselves on my tongue, and others lodge themselves in the receptors of my nasal cavity. These tiny particles cause a chemical reaction, and my brain interprets this signal as "bitter" and "aromatic" and other characteristics that are common to a cup of coffee. In these cases, your body is being physically manipulated by the object.

What I'm driving at is that an argument can be made that you are not seeing an actual chair, hearing an actual radio, or tasting an actual cup of coffee. What is happening is that your senses are manipulated by an object, and what you "see" (or taste, or hear, etc.) is only your brain's interpretation of the signals it receives through manipulation. From that standpoint, the "world" can be very small, limited to the 1.5 quart cavity your brain resides in.

This can also be applied to people. You are standing there talking to someone, your dad, your friend, a co-worker. You're not actually interacting with that person, but an image of that person created by your brain. You hear their voice, see their image, smell their perfume, a myriad of signals that your brain interprets as "human." But it doesn't stop there. Unlike inanimate objects, your brain now has to deal with abstract concepts like love, loyalty, angry, family, friend. Now you're having to deal with signals that have no physical form. Love exists, but it is not tangible. Anger exists, but it is not physically malleable. The same can be said for the concepts of family, friend, enemy. They exist, but like God, there is no physical evidence that they are there. Your brain must add this new dimension of signals and interpret this along with the physical input and tell you "mother," "husband," "daughter," "friend."

Your best friend, your wife, your child. These are merely images that you have created for yourself and form your "world." This also applies to you. You know who you are because the evidence is all around you. You see, you hear, you fell, you think, you have emotions. Again, these are merely signals that your brain is receiving and creating feedback to form your physical "world." (And I keep saying "your brain" but this is incorrect. You ARE your brain, or more correctly, what exists in you your mind is YOU.)

What's more, your "world" must interact with other "worlds." Just like that image of your mother, your child, your mate, your friend exists in your mind, you exist in their mind. There's the you that exists in your mother's mind. There's the you that exists in your child's mind. There's the you that exists in your mate's mind. There's the you that exists in your friend's mind. Considering how different and diverse human beings can be, you may be a different person in these other individual's minds. You ARE a different person in their minds. You aren't your mother's child as well as her mate. You aren't your child's parent as well as their child. That person's mind has received certain signals and input from you and created a person that can be completely different from the person that exists in someone else's mind.

Looks like I picked the wrong day to stop sniffin' glue.

I hadn't heard that today. I have never heard this mentioned during the stories I see on broadcast television.
A Google News search of "Utah Mall Shooting" returns 885 articles.
Adding the term "Muslim" pulls up exacly ONE article.
A more specific search of "Sulejmen Talovic Muslim" pulls up five articles.

Wonder why this part of the story isn't being mentioned?

I let her finish giving birth and cleaning up the kittens and herself (Cats may suck royal ass, but at least they clean up their own mess) and decided to move her into a box in the bathroom. I found a suitable box and picked up two of the kittens, deposited them and returned to get two more. On the way to get some more, I passed Gator in the hall. On the way back to the box, I passed Gator with a kitten in her mouth, dutifully returning the newborn to her selected "den" (my parent's closet.) I locked Gator in the bathroom with the other newborns and brought the rest to her.

I can't quite remember how many kittens there were, but I remember they were all female save for one kitten. Most of them were ugly as hell, white with gray and cream colored patches, I guess you'd call them Calico. There was "Puffball," she had fluffier fur than the rest. There was "Old Fogey," who didn't like to play with the other kittens, and would growl whenever someone approached her. We managed to give away all the female cats except Tiger, who was so ugly no one wanted her (she ended up looking like this cat), so my parents kept her. "Feed her to a dog," I said. Gator was run over a short time later, and Tiger a couple of years after that.

Then there was Chewie. Chewie stood out from the rest of them. He was mostly black, with half a white nose, a white belly and diaper, and uneven white socks. The vet told us that the reason for the big difference in their appearances was that they probably all had five different fathers. (I guess Gator was a slut.) I decided to keep Chewie. I liked him for about 6 months, but then I started hating his guts.

My only previous experience with cats was another stray that showed up on our doorstep when I was a kid. She was a Russian Blue (I looked that up) named Catherine (after Catherine the Great), and the people we knew who knew cats swore that she was full-blooded. She was a great cat. I figured out later this was not because of her cat-like behavior, but because she almost acted like a dog. Not playful or anything, but when you came outside she would come over and see what you were doing. (Most cats I've found since then simply don't give a fuck what you're up to as long as you're not messing with THEM. They come around when they're hungry or when they want to be petted, but otherwise keep to themselves. Selfish bastards.)

However, animal lover that I am, I don't believe you just kick an animal to the curb just because you decide you don't want it anymore. You find a good home for it to go to, or you suck it up and take care of it. My wife liked him, anyway. So I was stuck with him. We got married that summer and moved into married housing at college. Chewie came with us, even though there was a "No Pets" policy. I came home from class one day and the apartment smelled like a skunk had died in there. I quickly learned of the male cat's tendency to mark his territory. Chewie was at the vet and "fixed" that afternoon.

Chewie was a trying experience. Since the previous cat we had was an outside cat, I didn't know that cats like to climb on things. EVERYTHING. The washer, the television, the bread machine on the kitchen counter, everything. This wouldn't have been a bad thing except 1) he got his hair everywhere (I mean EVERYWHERE. I find cat hair in my freezer for Pete's sake) 2) he liked to get in the window so he could look outside and we were scared we'd get busted on the "No Pets" policy. He got onto a shelf where I had some of the recently (at the time) released Star Wars POTF2 action figures on display. He chewed up the lightsaber from my Darth Vader figure (which was the long-saber variant and was was worth more) Come to think of it, that WAS such a bad thing. I decided that the way to prevent him from getting in the places where we didn't want him to get was to put out some of those "humane" rat traps. The kind that are like a big sticky strip, you put peanut butter in the middle. The rat tries to walk across the strip to the peanut butter and gets stuck on the strip, which is extremely sticky. I figured he'd get his little cat paws stuck once or twice and decide he didn't want to do it anymore. I came home one day to find him laying in the middle of the living room, with a sticky rat trap firmly affixed to his side. I had to peel it off, and most of his fur came with it. He ran around with a patch of fur missing on his side, but did not learn to stay off the kitchen counter.

My next idea was to chuck a tennis ball at him whenever I caught him more than three feet off the ground. I broke the clock in the kitchen and had to change tactics.

I resorted to a squirt gun. Whenever I caught him on top of something, I doused him. He only learned to get down when he saw me coming.

I gave up and just decided to torment him for the rest of his life with a Nerf gun, which was pretty fun. Somewhere between then and now he eventually learned not to get on top of stuff, or at least not to let me see him on top of stuff. Our relationship could be described as ambivalent. He stood there and took it when I got to taking pot shots at him with the Nerf gun, otherwise we pretty much stayed out of each other's way.

In 2005, my daughter was born, and between a new baby, an old wife, my four-year old son and a cat, the house was getting a little crowded. "Either the cat goes outside, or I do" I told my wife. After about a week she realized that if I wasn't sleeping in the house I wasn't going to take out the trash. She relented and the cat went outside instead.

I was ecstatic. For the first time in 8 years, I didn't have to clean the cat box, or wipe up some glop of food that the cat regurgitated along with whatever it was he decided he shouldn't have eaten (curly ribbon, grass, strings.) The guest bathroom didn't smell like pee. I didn't have to worry about finding cat hair anywhere. I was the only member of my household that was happy about the events. Well, except for my yellow lab, Tater Tot. She was just itchin' for the chance to get the cat in the back yard.

Chewie didn't like it at first. For weeks, he would spend hours at the back door, whining to be let in. I joyfully broke out the old squirt bottle and put a stop to that. Eventually, he came to accept his new lot, and decided to get revenge on me by getting pawprints all over the hood of my car. Little bastard.

Chewie disappeared shortly before Christmas last year and I can only assume that he passed. The sad thing about cats is that when they get old and get ready to die, they go off by themselves. They feel uncomfortable and try to find somewhere to go hide from that since they don't really comprehend things like "death" or "sick." Their natural instincts take over, and these tell them "find somewhere safe to hole up for a while." This is usually why when most people's cats die, they just simply disappear. That was over a month ago, and we've still not found a comfortable way to approach the subject with my son. I remember when I was his age my grandparent's cat was run over and I was upset over that. I guess part of me wants to protect him from that anguish, which may not seem like much to an adult, but certainly will to a six year old. The other part of me wants him to understand that death is a part of the natural process, and is not something to fear. That most of us when our time comes do not go earlier than we should, but exactly when we ought to. That sometimes those we love may go a little sooner than WE would like but in the end they usually end up in a nicer place.

Guess I need to go home tonight and tell a little boy that his cat died.

"You know, I think we're in a moment of history where probably the most important thing we need to do is to bring the country together..."

"Well, I'm not sure I decided it. I think, you know, if you look African-American in this society, you're treated as an African-American."

"The truth of the matter is, you know, when I'm walking down the south side of Chicago and, visiting my barbershop, and playing basketball in some of these neighborhoods..."

"Well, you know, I think it was typical of a teenager who was confused about who he was and what his place in the world was..."

"You know, I don't. I mean, I think one of the things about national politics is this attempt to airbrush your life. And it's exhausting, right, you know. 'This is who I am. This is where I've come from.' And you know, if we have problems in this campaign..."

"I don't lose sleep over it because the realities are that, you know, as a black man, you know, Barack can get shot going to the gas station, you know. So, you know, you can't make decisions based on fear...

"You know" is just something that's become ingrained in the way Americans speak. For some people it's "uhhhh" or "ahhhh," for some it's "like" (I was, like, talking to that guy and he was all, like, "Get away" and I was like "but I like you" and he was all like "So?" I got, like, all sad, you know?) and for the rest, it's "You know." I don't know why people do this, I think its because they're mouth works faster than their brain, and they're thinking of how to put their thought together verbally, but still want to hear sound coming out of their mouths. Start paying attention to other people when they talk. Start paying attention to when YOU talk. And STOP DOING IT!

Honestly now, who didn't see THIS ONE coming? Anyone shocked by this?

Farewell, Anna Nicole. I remember back when you were hot. When I turned 18, the first thing I did to celebrate was run out and buy a Playboy with you in it (1993 Playmate of the Year) and a six-pack of beer. I remember drinking half that six pack and smoking Swisher Sweets while my buds and I passed around that issue. (I got sick and spent the nght on the floor of a friend's bathroom. I hope it was the Swishers, but I'm pretty sure it was the beer. I'm Irish and can't hold my liquor.)

I remember buying my best friend an Anna Nicole Smith calendar for his 18th birthday. We were all smitten with you.

I'm sorry that your life sucked so much near the end. You were getting back to being hot and everything.

"(We) know what needs to be done. Again, we're working trying to try push this agenda forward. The other day the oil companies reported the highest profits in the history of the world. I want to take those profits and I want to put them into a strategic energy fund that will begin to fund alternative, smart energy; alternatives and technology that will begin to actually move us toward the direction of independence."

I'll go ahead and let you know that this statement was made by a potential candidate for President of the United States. Again, notice that one part of bold text. A potential candidate for President of the United States thinks that the Imperial Federal Government should be able to use its power to seize a company's profits. I'm sure most of you conservatives and libertarians have your ears pricked up.

For you liberals, I'm sure you're saying "Damn right! Big Oil makes too much money! They SHOULD have to pay for research into alternative fuels!" (I put exclamation points because liberals are always screaming.) Let me ask you this. What if it WASN'T "Big Oil?" What if it was YOUR business. Your organic foods store, your tattoo parlor, your acupuncture office. (Or whatever it is that liberals do, I don't really know.) What if this person wanted to take the profits from YOU? The money that you made, that you sweated and bled for? Doesn't that seem a little bit like thievery? If you've done nothing illegal, why should ANYONE be allowed to seize your property? If it isn't okay for them to do it to you, why should it be okay for them to do it to another company?

The person that came up with this brilliant idea? The devil herself, Hillary Rodham Clinton.

In Other News... In a series of running items on Black History Month, we'd like to take today to mention a very special person, Edgerrin James. Edge has the distinction of being The First African-American to Regret Leaving the Indianapolis Colts for More Money. Edge spent most of his career as a running back for the Colts. However, at the end of the 2005 season he decided he was worth more money than the Colts were willing to pay and sought other employment. He signed with the Arizona Cardinals for 2006, where the team went 5-11 as his former employer won the Super Bowl. Hey Edge, which would you rather have, a bigger paycheck or a Super Bowl Ring? Oh well, at least you'll always have the distinction of being The First African-American to Regret Leaving the Indianapolis Colts for More Money.

Anyway, the game. The first quarter was pretty exciting. Lots of turnovers and mistakes, plus the first opening kick-off returned for a TD in Super Bowl history (which I knew as soon as it happened, but the announcers didn't mention until about mid-way through the 1st quarter). At the end of the 1st half, I knew pretty much that the game was the Colts to lose. The only ad I can remember was the Taco Bell "Lions" ad, which I liked. The rest were forget-able at best. Congratulations to Peyton Manning who, like the greatest QB to ever play the game, John Elway, can now shed that "Yeah, but he never won the big one" monkey on his back.

The one thing I did notice, and I wrote on this my last post, is that there were not many TRUE fans there. They showed a shot of the stadium about half-way through the 4th quarter, and the stands appeared almost half-empty, you could see the orange seats. The closer to the field you got (i.e. the more you paid for your seats), the emptier the seats became. I guess they didn't like being wet. What kind of a person goes to the Super Bowl, spends $4,000 bucks for a ticket, and leaves before the game is over? A rich asshole, that's who.

Despite the lack of a true party, we always make party food for the Super Bowl, with the intention that we'll be snacking throughout the game, rather than making a regualar meal. Usually the menu consists of:
Little Smokies in Sauce - Made by combining a bottle of Kraft Hickory Smoke BBQ Sauce, half a jar of grape jelly, and 3/4s of a bottle of Chili Sauce. Don't laugh, it's good and is just about the only good use of Kraft brand BBQ sauce that I've found.
Chicken Wings Au Vin - Chicken wings cooked at low temp for four hours in a concoction of red wine, 1 stick of butter, & garlic. They're lip-smackin', finger lickin' good. Lots of gelatin-y goodness. (The name is a play on the dish Coq Au Vin which is much classier than eating chicken wings)
Cream Cheese and Turkey Roll-ups - I have to make these because my wife won't eat the Chicken Wings. Take a big-ass flour tortilla, smear it with a mixture of cream cheese and Tony's (Tony Chachere's Original Creole Seasoning, good on everything that you'd normally just put salt on or in.). Top that with a layer of turkey lunch meat (hickory smoked works best). Roll it up tight, wrap in foil, and refrigerate over night. The next day, cut into 1 inch slices, and enjoy.
Heavyarms' World-Famous, or Nearly-So, Chili-dip - Take one 1lb. block of Velveeta, melt. Stir in one can Wolf Brand Chili (r) (no beans). Dip chips in it and enjoy and try not to eat the whole damn thing. Okay, so I stole this recipe from a can of Chili. Or maybe it was a box of Velveeta.

This year, I decided to take a departure from the normal menu and tried out some new recipes.
Alton Brown's Mini-Man Burgers - Take 1 lb. ground chuck, put it on a baking sheet, cover w/ plastic wrap, and roll it out so that it covers the entire baking sheet (the recipe doesn't specify the size, I have a baking sheet set of 3, and I used the middle one). Sprinkle with salt, pepper, garlic and onion powder. Fold the meat over on top of it self. Use a pizza cutter and cut the meat into square patties (I used dinner rolls, but you're supposed to get those square potato that are about 3-inches wide. ALWAYS buy the bread first and cut the meat to size.) These burgers turn out like White Castle or Krystal burgers, tiny little bite sized patties. Call 'em Sliders, Gut Grenades or (my favorite) Belly Bombs, you're supposed to consume in mass quantities. They didn't all cook evenly, but I attribute this to my own failings as a cook, 1) They weren't all the same thickness, my fault, and 2) My electric griddle sucks, it has hot spots. Some were well-done and some were still pink inside (I don't mind, but my wife does.) Also, the patties were seald off on the edges, but when you bit into it, the top and bottom halves split, making a little pocket. The juice from the meat pooled in this pocket in some of the burgers. I think that next time I may add a couple egg whites before the fold to glue the patties together. Toss these little gems on a roll with some mayo, and enjoy. Also, I will use the biggest pan to roll the meat out because these patties were a tad bit thicker than a standard McDonald's patty, and should be thinner than that.
Chicken Wings - I got this idea off MSN as a "Classic Game Day recipe." I should have noticed that these weren't true Buffalo Wings, the recipe called for hot sauce, but no vinegar. For me, that vinegar-y tang is the best part of wings. Once I saw this, I eschewed the recipe and played it by ear. First, I marinated the wings in half a bottle of Justin Wilson's Louisiana Chicken Wing Sauce for about 30 minutes (which wasn't long enough.) I kept the cooking method in the recipe, though, and broiled them for about 10 minutes per side. This didn't make a pretty wing, one side looked braised and the other was a little black. Next time I'll just deep fry them like usual. They didn't have that classic Buffalo Wing color, so I tossed them in a little (or a lot) Moore's Buffalo Wing Sauce. What? You don't have at least two bottles of Wing Sauce on hand at all times? Weirdo. Despite they're being ugly, they actually tasted pretty good. Justin Wilson's sauce has a lot of sugar in it, which caramelized under the broiler and gave them a good flaver. Of course, there was plenty of blue cheese dipping sauce to go around. (T. Marzetti's Ultimate Blue Cheese Salad Dressing. It's too thick to be used as an actual Salad Dressing, which doesn't stop me, BTW, but it's as good as any blue cheese dipping sauce I've ever made.)
Nacho Potato Skins - Another recipe I got from MSN's recipe list. Just traditional cheddar topped potato skins. I was GOING to top these with some roasted chilis and pico de gallo, but time was short so I just went w/ sour cream and green onions. Pretty good.

On the whole, the mini-man burgers, with refinement, could be a staple. I'm going to stick with my traditional buffalo wing method. And I didn't really need a recipe to make potato skins.

This month
We here at the Angry White Male staff will be commemorating black history month by running a series of items on "The first African-American to..."
We'll kick it off by celebrating Lovie Smith, who became the first African American Head Coach to lose the Super Bowl.

Pessimist - noun 1. An experienced Optimist

I'll agree with everything written, and I'd like to expound on it. The Super Bowl wears me out. Let's start with the pre-game show that starts at noon. There is no reason for the "pre-game" show to last longer than the actual game. Of course, with all the commercial bullshit surrounding the Super Bowl the game clocks in at close to 5 hours anyway. Watch the game this weekend, there will be a commercial break after EVERY punt, EVERY kick-off, EVERy score, each time offense takes the field, during EVERY timeout. Pretty soon they'll start taking commercial breaks after every down and just make the Super Bowl a two day affair. This is one of the reasons why I like hockey. If you watch a hockey game, teams play 20 minute periods. You will watch that 20 minute period in the space of about 23 minutes. The reason, there isn't a stoppage of play every 60 seconds where they try to squeeze in 5 commercials in like football. The stoppages they do have last maybe 30 seconds. There will be 2 commercial breaks during a period, 3 tops. In hockey, like racing, they sometimes have to take breaks DURING the action just to pay the bills.

And the half-time show. MY GOD the half-time show. If ever there was a pointless exercise in entertainment, this is it. I remember that one during the Rams-Titans Super Bowl that looked like the people who do the Lion King stage show had hit some acid and started planning the half-timeshow. All I could say is "What the fuck is this?" I've not watched a half-time show since.

Then there's Phil Simms, who gets the color commentary duty this year. I can't stand listening to him. He never says "NFL," he always says "National Football League." And his commentary starts out with the phrase "If you're a quarterback/running back/linebacker/offensive lineman in the National Football League..." and then goes on to describe what the guy did right or wrong, or should do or shouldn't do. It's not, "He's gotta catch that ball"...it's "If you're a Wide Receiver in the National Football League, you've got to catch that ball when you're that wide open and the quarterback throws it to you."

What about the commercials? Why is it that this one day a year, during this ONE particular football game, we make such a big deal out of something that normally when it comes on, we flip to another channel? I've already seen articles PREVIEWING the commercials. You know there will be articles and television stories reviewing them. THEY'RE COMMERCIALS! A 30 second spot trying to sell you something. CBS is asking for $2.6 million this year for 30 seconds. Here's a Forbe's article that asks if Super Bowl ads are a good deal for companies. While it has some good information on the cost of ads and all, I can ask that question more effectively. When was the last time a Super Bowl ad convinced you to go buy something? I can't remember that one has EVER done that to me. Sure, they're clever, they may get a giggle or occasional belly laugh out of us, but have you ever thought to yourself "Damn, I've got to utilize that company's product"?

This is just a minor list, but it is symptomatic of the current elevation of Super Bowl Sunday to something of a national holiday. All this stuff does is shut most of the normal fans out.

Don't believe me? Look at the people who attend the game. During the regular season, you've got blue-collar Joe Blow who scrimped and saved his money for the month to take him and his kid to the game sitting right next to Mr. Big Shot lawyer, who got the cheapest set of season tickets he could find. Both bleed Orange and Blue, or Black and Gold, or Seahawks Bule and Seahawks Navy (actual colors). They're the kind of guys who will brave Green Bay's and Buffalo's Arctic-like Decembers. Miami's and Jacksonville's and Dallas' sweltering Augusts. They'll cheer their boys and jeer their opponent, and they do it together. They can recite their team's entire roster, and can tell you who dat whodat was that just made a great special teams tackle. They cheer for the guy from Section J, Row 8, Seat 21 that attempts a 25 yard figgie that gets him a shot at a new car. They applaud for the kids from the local Punt, Pass and Kick competetion who are announced at half time.

Then along comes the Super Bowl. The "cheap seats" are $1500. The average ticket costs 4 grand. You better have made your hotel reservations well in advance and be prepared to pay three times the normal rate. They have to arrive at the stadium 12 hours ahead of time. The stadium is packed with rich assholes who only went to the game to say "I was there." They couldn't tell you the name of the backup QBs on either team if their life depended on it. You have to sit through some dreadful half time show featuring some rock band that hasn't had a new song in 20 years. Tailgating? Forget it. The parking lot is full of media-types and television production trucks. Even if you could tailgate, you wouldn't want to because those rich assholes at the stadium are the ones you'd have to tailgate with. Besides, there's no fucking way you DROVE to the stadium in the first place. You paid $100 bucks to ride the shuttle from your hotel, which is 50 miles away from the city because the closer hotels were sold out long ago.

The Super Bowl is no longer about the two best teams from the league facing off to determine who is better. It's about hype. It's the NFL's way of celebrating how great it is.

But I'll be there watching, manly man burger in one hand, a plate full of buffalo wings in the other, and a rapidly warming beer in my lap. I'm hoping to find the football game hidden beneath the fancy package.