College football is gloriously marbles

I'm probably the only person who likes the BCS these days. Not because it's a good or even logical system, but because it gets people so pissed off. What would we argue about if the season just transitioned neatly into a postseason playoff? Judging from every other major sport, I'm sure we'd find some perceived injustices to dispute, but no way could it rival the extreme absurdity the BCS presents us with year in and year out. It's such fun. And this year is proving to be even more absurd, given that the Big 12 chose to rely on the vagaries of the BCS to untangle the three way clusterfuck in its South division.

I can't help but laugh at the sportsdouches on TV crying about "settling it on the field" and "finding out who the best team really is" by instituting a playoff system. Right, because the Giants, Kansas, and the Phillies were all unquestionably the best teams in their respective leagues this year. A playoff indeed settles it on the field, but it really just amounts to another round of entertainment to determine the final allocation of bragging rights. The BCS already does this, but with so much more anger and injustice. I vote for keeping things interesting.

Claiming your banking service to be legendary is marbles

Like some douchebag bragging about his sexual prowess, TD Bank has decided that its service is "legendary" and wants to tell you about it. Please. Elvis is legendary. The 1976 Steelers defense is legendary. Hell, R. Kelly is closer to legendary than some bitch who gives you a toaster for opening a checking account, even if it does come with a creepy open-mouthed thumbs up.

Having your vanity plate preempted by a 72 year old Ohio State fan is marbles

The enormous ratio of Sonic commercials to Sonic restaurants is marbles

Sonic is the Sasquatch of fast food. Much discussed, but rarely seen. Everywhere I've lived, there have been Sonic commercials on TV, but nowhere I've lived has there actually been a real, physical, honest-to-goodness Sonic. Why does Sonic advertise nationwide, incessantly, when nationwide there appears to be at most only five or six actual Sonics? In my travels I've been lucky enough to glimpse three Sonics, but, like the Sasquatch, I could never prove it, and neither could others who reported seeing more in the remote corners of some of our less populous states.


For years, I told stories of a Sonic lying deep in Ohio's Hocking Hills State Forest, in the sleepy town of Nelsonville. Lacking proof, however, the creature remained mere folklore. But, this past weekend, I was finallly able to catch it on film (see above). This should once and for all silence the skeptics. Sonic is real.

Having to google things for people is marbles

Where was this brilliant site last week when I was alone in my apartment, screaming at my computer, hoping that the moron whose work I had to edit could hear me?

If you'll indulge my geeky complaint for a moment: I was doing a second round edit on an stupid legal article that cited all kinds of obscure sources that we lucky students get to fact-check. So the previous editor whose work I was double checking was completely baffled as to whom the author's reference to a particular vote cast by "the Independent Senator from Vermont" might apply. Jackass just writes "don't know what senator the author is referring to." Because it's really difficult to tease that one out on your own. Would have been very satisfying to send him this.

Using the phrase "curdled self-pity" is marbles

Geared up and ready for the album of the millennium to drop, I'm reading the NYT review of Chinese Democracy (and checking the calendar to see if it's April 1 already) when I come across this gem of a description:

In its 14 songs there are glimpses of heartfelt ferocity and despair, along with bursts of remarkable musicianship. But they are overwhelmed by countless layers of studio diddling and a tone of curdled self-pity. The album concludes with five bombastic power ballads in a row.

What the hell is "curdled self-pity"? When does one's self-pity get so rancid that it curdles? Is the implication that one's former un-pitied self is then unrecoverable? And how does one express this in song? (Though five consecutive power ballads is probably a good start)

So naturally I had to google the phrase to see if it had ever been used before in the history of the English language. It had, once. Where else, but in a New York Times review.

Billionaire insider trading is marbles

While I realize I'm probably expecting too much of an uberdouche like Mark Cuban, I have to ask - seriously, you're a billionaire, how the hell are you stupid enough to get busted for insider trading, much less over a matter of $750K? You're a billionaire, you can pay other people to trade on inside information for you. Hell, you're a billionaire, there are organizations specifically devoted to trading on inside information for billionaires - they're called hedge funds.

I hope the SEC takes him down. But sadly he seems to have at least an outside chance of beating the rap. But I never bet against the SEC. Way better than the Big 10.

Mike Schmidt wine is marbles

Saw it at the liquor store today, on sale to celebrate the great victory. It's even got pinstripes.

Singing an interview is marbles

I'd probably find this more entertaining if it were done by a band that was either completely over-serious or completely un-serious. But I never really know with Okkervil River, so the cleverness of their singing an interview somehow bothers me. I think it would also bother me if, say, the Decemberists did it. Judge for yourself.



More here, if interested.

Getting automated phone calls warning about impending automated phone calls is marbles.

Well, I guess that's pretty much sums it up. A furniture store's automated phone service called me today to tell me that it'd be automatedly calling me tomorrow to tell me when they're going to deliver my couch. It even foretold the choices I'll have tomorrow. At least now I have 24 hours to decide if I'll need to push "2" to speak with customer service...

Ghost Hunters is marbles

I wanted to believe.

I watched this show when it first started, a few years ago, and was mildly taken by the air of (relative) objectivity they brought to their "investigations" of the paranormal. In those early episodes, more often than not, they'd come away from a supposedly haunted house with purely earthly explanations for the owner's ghostly claims. This made the few times when they did claim to find evidence of haunting more believable.

But this season, all they do is find ghosts. Most of the time, the experiences are conveniently personal, with someone seeing a "shadow" off camera or feeling a disembodied touch. But sometimes, like at the live Halloween special this year, something physical actually gets caught on camera, like Grant's jacket getting tugged. Here's the footage.



Pretty crazy, no? But note, however, that his right hand stays in his pocket the whole time. Not the kind of thing you'd do if someone or something just grabbed your collar. Suspicious, but not damning. This next video, however, is damning.


[Skip to the 5:07 mark]

So, his jacket was clearly somehow rigged. What a disappointment. No ghosts, only hoaxes to improve ratings, because people like ghosts, not rational explanations. Turns out there are several sites devoted to exposing these hoaxes (most of which seem to center around Grant). Here's a good one. Oddly enough I may end up watching the show more often now, just for the fun of trying to figure out what they're doing.

509 people voting for the wrong Phillies is marbles

I got so excited when I saw on Philebrity that 509 of us had voted for "Phillies" on Tuesday. It made perfect sense, the champs being second only to The Boss and maybe that black guy everyone has been talking about.

Imagine my disappointment when I discover it's just that some fictitious libertarian has the last name Phillies. I'm willing to bet at least 400 of those votes were by confused/delighted Philadelphians. Nonetheless, I wish I would have voted for the Phillies.

[stats from CNN]

NASCAR gun violence is expected, marbles.

Maybe it was a sign from god to stop watching cars travel in circles... Maybe it was just a matter of stacked odds when attending a NASCAR event...

CNNSI: NASCAR Fan Hit By Stray Bullet

And yet, she immediately knew she was shot, so maybe it was a repeat occurrence.

30 is the new marbles

Happy belated birthday, J.