Gregg Easterbrook's Kooky Criteria

 

It's time for Easterbrook's annual All-Unwanted All-Pros list, which is generally an interesting read, but this year his criteria for inclusion are head-scratchingly inconsistent. Namely, this is the first season that James Harrison has been disqualified from the list. Says Easterbrook:

"In past seasons the undrafted James Harrison has made the All-Unwanted All-Pros. This season Harrison seems so determined to convince people that he is not much of a human being that he has been disqualified from consideration."

Presumably, he's talking about how Harrison insulted Roger Goodell and his own teammates in Men's Journal this past summer. Yeah, that's bad. But who does makes the list but LeGarrette Blount, who got kicked off his college team for punching an opponent, then signed with the Titans and punched his own teammate, then signed with the Bucs and punched an opponent again. Now, I don't think either player's conduct is that egregious, but it's inconsistent, at best, to disqualify one and not the other. I mean, it's not like either of them beat up his wife/girlfriend. Not this year anyway.

That's right, remember when James Harrison was arrested for domestic violence in 2008? That didn't disqualify him from Easterbrook's 2008 All-Unwanted All-Pros list.

Wayne Hanson's God Is a Broncos Fan

This douche's god doesn't give a shit about you if you aren't an NFL player

As I've said before, I enjoy watching Tim Tebow play. Amazingly, his passing has actually improved. I've been silently rooting for him because it's just interesting to see something unexpected happen in the NFL. For the record, I'm also rooting for the Cardinals to make the playoffs for the very same reason. Perhaps we should find out which god John Skelton worships, no?

Notwithstanding the remarkable nature of the Broncos six game winning streak, I don't ascribe any cosmic significance to it, but Tebow's pastor, Wayne Hanson of Summit Church, looks upon the Broncos and yea, verily he sees the indelible hand of God guiding the Broncos to victories against teams like the Dolphins and the Bears' third-stringers:

His pastor, Wayne Hanson of Summit Church outside Denver, said the Broncos are winning because of God. “It’s not luck,” said Hanson. “Luck isn’t winning six games in a row. It’s favor. God’s favor. … God has blessed his hard work.”

Wow. Let's parse this out. First of all, where was God when Denver got bitchslapped by Detroit? Taking a nap, I guess. Then heathen Tom Brady came to town and blew the Broncos out of the stadium. And what happens when there's a hardworking Christian on the opposing team? How does God choose who wins?

The more troubling implication is that God cares about the outcome of a football game and "blesses" the hard work of Christian football players, yet allows his own missionaries to be murdered in front of their wives and children, gunned down en masse while providing health care in remote villages, and shot for driving a car that was too nice because their beater was unfortunately in the shop at the time. And that was just in 2011!

Why All Job-Seeking Advice is Useless

Just like everyone who has ever looked for a job in the Internet age, I've done a lot of reading on the proper job interview behavior, follow-up, resume construction, etc. And unfortunately, it's all useless.

The problem is, nobody can agree on anything, except for maybe "don't show up in shorts." Outside of that, there's no consensus on much of any of the details. Should you keep your resume to one page, or two? Snail mail or email for your thank you letter? Or should you not even bother because it just gives you one more chance to fuck up the spelling of someone's name without really helping you in the first place? And let's not forget the age-old question of whether you can wear brown shoes with dark charcoal suits. I even once read somewhere that merely wearing a suit to an IT position interview in California would reflect negatively on you.

Certainly, you should keep the general points in mind. Look crisp, look clean, sound confident, be polite, smell good. But seriously, if you didn't know those things in the first place, you aren't qualified for any job I can think of. I think there's a lot of variance in the minutia because past that broad threshold of acceptability, you're squarely into personal preference territory.

It's a lot like asking "What should I wear on this date? What should I talk about to make her like me? There are just no universally accepted rules. Don't dress like a slob and don't talk about raping forest animals - outside of that, there's not a lot you can say for certain. And it's the same in the job hunt; I'm sure some hiring managers would be delighted if you sent an email thank you note followed by a thank you letter on 100 lb parchment stationery in which you reiterate your burning passion for office work and remind the interviewer that your three months as a Starbucks barista taught you so much about going the extra mile on the job. Me, I think it's cloyingly obsequious.

So you basically have to play the numbers games and do the things that are likely to piss off the fewest people. That's why I appreciate articles based on survey data more than "this is how I feel" type anecdotal stuff.

Of course, my personal pet peeve is that job candidates are so subjugated during the entire process. I understand that it is a buyer's market and perhaps always will be, but I kind of resent the whole "I AM NOT WORTHY TO EVEN HOVER MY MOUSE POINTER OVER YOUR SHITTY EXCEL WORKSHEETS" attitude that seems to be required. The company is getting something from you too, and sometimes even more than they are paying for. Shouldn't they be sending the candidates thank you letters too?

So What's Wrong With Flip-Flopping?

Okay, so I wouldn't vote for Mitt Romney anyway. But I don't see anything wrong with flip-flopping, per se. Perhaps people are really implying that the real issue is that Romney (or anyone of his ilk) claims that his views are in accord with whatever constituency is most advantageous to him at the moment, counter to his genuine beliefs. That's a valid complaint, but that's not flip-flopping. That's just plain dishonesty.

True flip-flopping, on the other hand should be encouraged. I've flip-flopped on a lot of views in the last 5-10 years, and I think that I'm a better person for it. In contrast, the person you should worry about is the staunch ideologue, the individual who refuses to change his/her mind even when the evidence demands it.

Indeed, in the course of my life, I have found that one of the most reliable predictors of a person's intelligence and thoughtfulness is the willingness to change his/her mind. I'm not sure why that is, but I recognize it all the time. But for some reason, as a society, we place a higher value on obstinately sticking to your guns, even when you might be wrong. And the highest value of all? That's "faith," of course, which is blindly believing in something without a shred of evidence whatsoever. In fact, the less evidence there is, the more laudable the faith!

But thank god for the flip-floppers; the ones who had the courage to flip-flop on slavery, women's rights, and animal welfare.   

Dealing With Noisy Neighbors: A Practical Guide

Throughout my adult apartment-renting life, I've lived next to noisy neighbors about half of the time. I'm actually relatively tolerant of incidental noise - walking, garbage disposals, etc. But fucking parties, goddamn. I can't stand them. Really loud parties are pretty much the best way to tell your neighbors, "Fuck you, I don't care that we live in a society, I only care about doing what I want." I always thought that when you're having a really loud party, it's customary to invite everyone around you in your apartment complex. Now, they're not supposed to actually come to the party, but it sort of defuses the anger.

If you search online for some advice on how to deal with them, the first step is invariably "Go over and politely tell them that they're noisy" or some similar variant. This is TERRIBLE advice, outside of some specific circumstances. If it's something that the person genuinely doesn't know they're doing, it might work. For example, I never knew how noisy it was to roll a rolling chair across the floor. It literally sounds like someone is bowling if you're in the apartment underneath it. If it's something like that, the person might be receptive.

Otherwise, the problem is, with something like a party, people KNOW they're being loud. They just don't give a shit. So when you point it out to them, they always react defensively. I mean, the night before my LSAT, the guy next door was blasting music and I knocked on his door and politely asked him to turn it down just this one night because I had my LSAT in the morning. And you know what the fucker said? "I hear noise from your room sometimes too." WTF? What does that have to do with anything?

The other important reason I would never knock on the offender's door is that now they can put a face on their complainant, whether it's you or not. You will now get blamed for EVERYTHING. Imagine you go over one day and ask them to keep the noise down. Then next week, the neighbor on the other side calls a noise complaint into the cops, or leaves a flaming bag of shit in front of their door. Guess whose tires are getting slashed? That's right, yours! I needn't mention that if you want to leave your own bag of shit, they'll know it was you.

A Big Hearty Fuck You to Penn State

So the whole not-reporting-a-kid-being-raped was bad enough. The alarming lack of people giving a shit all the way up the ladder was bad enough. But then Penn State students riot and then call in threats to the guy who reported the rape? What the fuck is wrong with you worthless shitstains? Is football all you care about?

Now, I should take a step back and acknowledge that I'm sure there are plenty of wonderful, lovely people who went to and currently attend Penn State. I'm genuinely sorry you are lumped into the entire Penn State community by people like me.

With that said, what is it with Penn State alumni? My neighbor is a Penn State grad (I can tell because his car looks like the fucking Nittany Lionmobile) and that fucking douchebag is the loudest, most inconsiderate pile of horse diarrhea I've ever had the misfortune of living near. He and his roommates pack like 20 of the world's ugliest people in their tiny shit apartment (so many that they have to leave their jackets in the hallway) every weekend. It sounds like a fucking tailgate party. What the fuck are you partying about? That it takes three of you to afford your crappy apartment?

The Best Name in College Basketball...or the Universe?

I've written before about the previous best name in college basketball, (formerly) Alabama State's Chief Kickingstallionsims, but I just saw the other day that the St. John's basketball team is the proud home of:

God'sgift Achiuwa

Now, it's worth noting that a name like "Nathan" also means God's gift, and I'm sure there is some other cultural variant I'm not familiar with. Regardless, I like this trend of parsing out the true meanings of names. "William" means, strangely, Will/Desire + Helmet. A perfect basketball name, Willdesirehelmet.

Anyway, aside from his name, the strangest part is that this guy might actually be able to play basketball. Granted, his season opener was against my Tribe - whose roster LOOKS like Butler's, but they don't play like Butler; I've never seen a W&M player dunk, ever - but 17 points on 6-11 shooting and 5-7 from the stripe, 9 boards, and 1 block might mean he's more than just a curiosity.

Jesus Has Come Back, and He is Tim Tebow

I have to admit, I have never been as fascinated with a player as I have with Tim Tebow (Kurt Warner is close, but still #2). This guy looks fucking terrible. He has the worst footwork I've ever seen in my life, his release is weird and slow (unlike Philip Rivers' release, which is weird and quick), and he's not even a particularly fast runner. But somehow he puts up scores and wins games. It is rare that I switch from NFL RedZone to an actual network game broadcast, but I did today to watch all of the Broncos' possessions.

He is unquestionably the most exciting player to watch, because you have no idea what the fuck he's going to do. He can drill Eric Decker in stride. He can break two tackles and rip off a 15 yard run. He can launch a wobbly duck straight to nobody or a laser directly into the ground. You just never know what's going to happen on a given play, but the end result is inexplicably usually positive. Despite the many passes he throws that make you think "How is this guy playing in the best football league in the world," in his 3.5 games he's thrown 6 TDs and only been picked off once. Huh.   

Now don't get me wrong, there are lots of guys who stink and still win games. Like Kyle Orton in 2005. Or Rex Grossman every year. But nobody does it quite like Tebow.

But that's not why I'm comparing him to Jesus, no. Not for anything he does on the field. No, I compare him to Jesus because he somehow got through four years at the University of Florida as their starting quarterback and exited a virgin. When you're the STARTING QUARTERBACK AT THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA, surrounded by this every single day of the week and you never even accidentally bang one of them...that is fucking Jesus-level willpower. I find that extraordinary. And I really admire that kind of commitment. 

How is Religion Okay for Children?

As a society we do everything we can to insulate kids from the kinds of things that we think will harm them; mental and physical abuse, violence, profanity, etc. Why, then, is it okay to subject kids to religion?

For some reason, people think that saying "fuck" in front of a kid will adversely affect his/her development, but simultaneously believe that it's okay to tell that same kid that:

1. There is an God who is so powerful he can do anything;
2. And he's really fucking pissed off at you because someone thousands of years ago ate something he wasn't supposed to eat and God just can't get over it;
3. And since you had the distinct misfortune of being born, you are destined to spend all of eternity burning in hell.

As a society, why are we allowing this? When I was maybe 7 years old I was handed one of the infamous Jack Chick tracts and at that age I pretty much accepted everything. I have distinct memories of the one page of that tract that scared the shit out of me, nightmares and everything. Yeah, I know, at the same age this kid was in college and I was crying over a Jack Chick tract. I'm such a retard.

Anyway, thanks to the wonder of the Internet, I can now share that page with you:

That's some pretty fucked up shit to tell a kid. I mean, granted, it's supposed to make you want to accept Christ into your life or whatever, but for fuck's sake, the Bible is so damn vague and contradictory that you can't possibly be 100% certain that you're not going to get thrown into the flaming ball pit. Needless to say, I lived in fear for much of my life.

People who try to proselytize to me nowadays scoff and almost invariably say something along the lines of "Are you comfortable with the belief that when you die, there's nothing?"

And my honest answer is "Yes." Oh, they never believe me. But it's true.

If They Could Only Meet My First Girlfriend...

...they would know how lousy my judgment actually is.

I signed up a while ago for the Good Judgment Project, a Penn/Berkeley forecasting tournament where you predict the likelihood of certain world events occurring in the future. They finally started accepting predictions a few months ago, and put up the initial leaderboard just last week. Take a gander at this!

#3! I must gloat before I fall out of the leaderboard in three minutes.

Economy Lagging? Call the Plumber!

Get back in your hole now...

I was horrified to hear the other day that Joe the Plumber (née Samuel J. Somethingorotherbacher) had filed papers to run for Congress. Now, to be clear, I have no problem with a plumber (or not) being in Congress. Nor do I necessarily have a problem prima facie with any candidate who does not have a formal education.

But I do request that any elected representative at least have a grasp of both basic and complex issues, instead of throwing terms like "fascists" and "socialism" around without really knowing what they mean. In the latter instance, I find "Joe" the "Plumber" especially guilty.

You see, Joe was concerned that Obama's tax plans were "one step closer to socialism." I imagine him saying that with that pensively furrowed brow above. He is, on the other hand, firmly in favor of preserving the American Dream, whatever the fuck that is, and even wrote an entire book about it.

I haven't read the book because I'd rather spend the 19 bucks on the co-pay for an exploratory colonoscopy, but I would be surprised if he really sat down to learn what the American Dream really was. And here it is: It was coined by James Truslow Adams, and defined (in part) as "that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement."

If that sounds familiar, it's because it's awfully close to the concept of "to each according to his contribution," the lynchpin of the transition to a socialist society.

But unfortunately, when people say "The American Dream" today, they don't mean a fuller and richer life for everyone. They mean a fuller and richer life for themselves, at the expense of everyone else.

The Apotheosis of Steve Jobs

First things first - I actually thought Steve Jobs' death was a joke or a mistake, as it once was before, and let's not forget Steve himself had a little fun with it at one of his keynotes:

Unfortunately, this time he won't be popping up a wry slide at the next keynote, so RIP, Steve.

With that said, I don't know when in the last ten years he achieved godhood, but he apparently did, by the way people are talking about him. Now don't get me wrong, I own a MacBook and bought several of the iPods and iPhone. I think he's one of the few people on this planet who just gets it; the rare combination of brilliance, creativity, and instinct. I've watched every single one of his speeches on Youtube and he's so consistently impressive and inspiring that I've modeled my public speaking career after him. He's not afraid to take risks and to gather his employees to scream that they totally fucked up MobileMe. I LOVE that shit. I admire him so much that if he had been peeing in the urinal next to me, I'd have held his dick for him.

But really, med student Paul Jurgens? "...He wanted to make a dent in the universe, and he did. This is the intersection of technology and humanity.” I know the dent in the universe thing was Steve's own line, but really? The universe? The guy sold you overpriced computers and phones that don't let you change the tone of e-mail notifications! He stopped all corporate charity programs and was by most accounts a temperamental douche, even shafting Woz out of $2,150 when they designed the Breakout board. (That's $9,000 in today's value)

So universe? I dunno. Somewhere in the Andromeda Galaxy Dr. Xzxqyxqy is feeling pretty unappreciated right now.

Scrubbing Bubbles One-Step Toilet Bowl Cleaner: Spraying Your Crap All Over the Bathroom

When I was in college, I took an honors freshman seminar on interpersonal communication or something like that (I can't remember the actual course title, but it was some kind of typical honors New Age-y bullshit name), and one of the only things I remember is watching a video with an example speech about how your toilet, when flushed, constantly spews microscopic bits of fecal matter all over your toothbrush and presumably in your face as well. I brushed my teeth in the water fountain for about week after that.

The truth, of course, is that the bathroom is nowhere near the dirtiest room in your house. Says Professor Charles Gerba: "If an alien came from space and studied the bacterial counts, he probably would conclude he should wash his hands in your toilet and crap in your sink." Duly noted.

Regardless, given enough time, every toilet gets suitably disgusting. It's easy to put off forking over like 15 bucks for that disposable toilet wand thing at the grocery store, but alas, we are only in college for so long. So I was excited to receive the Scrubbing Bubbles One-Step Toilet Bowl Cleaner through the Bzzagent program, because a) that site usually never sends me anything, and b) anything that keeps the toilet clean with a minimum of fuss and the least amount of toilet water on my arms has my undivided attention.

So basically, it's an upside-down aerosol can that you attach to the foot pedal, which has a thin rubber tube leading to a suction/clamp type contraption with a rotating spray head that you clip to the inner rim of your toilet bowl. It doesn't require any electricity, which is kind of cool, especially considering how much force the cleaning solution is shot out with. That, I found out the hard way.

I attached the mechanism to the bowl and pressed on the foot pedal with my hand while bent over the toilet. The solution proceeded to shoot OUT of the bowl and into my face. I love the feeling of Lysol in my eye. On the plus side, the advertising must be accurate, as I have indeed noticed that there has been no toilet scum growing on my face since then. I had to put a spacer in the clamp so that the contraption would sit lower in the bowl, but even at its lowest, it still shot solution on top of the seat and under the space in the cover. But I hate cleaning toilets so much I STILL didn't give up on the One-Step at this point.

I know what you're wondering right now, and I was wondering it too: since the spray head juts out into the toilet space by about an inch and a half, most healthy bran-powered logs will clear it with room to spare, but what happens when you eat Chipotle and carpetbomb that bowl? Does it have a magical shit-repelling force field or space age coating? The brochure didn't say. I had to find out for myself.

I didn't even get around to going to Chipotle; a sugar-free red velvet cupcake did the trick. And the answers are yes, you will shit all over it, and no, there is no magical shit-repelling coating.

So points for concept but perhaps not for execution. My toilet doesn't seem to be unusual in shape or size, but naturally, YMMV. For me, sadly, it's back to $15 toilet wands and then burning my arms afterwards.

EDIT: The BzzAgent program rejected this post in just 2 minutes! Their webcrawling ninja robots somehow determined that I was using too much profanity without even registering a hit on my visitor log. Incredible!


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Those Silly Chinese

We've had our share of crazies in America's history, but I never knew how hilariously dysfunctional ancient China used to be. I mean, you've got a guy whose solution for invaders is to build a huge wall, which of course kills more workers during its construction than any invasion force likely would, and in a desperate search for immortality, ingests anything that anyone claims is the elixir of life, including mercury pills, which ironically probably did him in. I love it!

Oh, and there was a guy whose only claim to fame was having a giant penis.

Anyway, I ran across this (admittedly old) incredible story about Chinese parents who pay $200,000 for a prep program designed to get their kids into Harvard. And I have to ask: if you have $200,000 laying around (and presumably another $120,000 for tuition), WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SENDING YOUR KID TO COLLEGE FOR? Presumably, the very point of college is so you can make $320,000 through your life in the first place so you can stop licking people's asses at the office and start working for yourself and your own ideas. Why not skip the 4 years of drinking and getting ignored by rich white chicks and just read a couple of books and start your own business or venture capitalism immediately? What's the point of going to Harvard?

It's like...well, killing your entire workforce by forcing them to build a wall to protect them from invaders.

Shame on Eliezer Alfonzo

Not for his PED suspension, but for his typical lame what-could-possibly-have-happened excuse, the second most annoying excuse right after "I just wanted to get back quickly from an injury because I LOVE THE GAME SO SO MUCH."

For once it would have been nice if he had said, "Look, my career OPS is .648 and if I'm not playing baseball for $400,000, I'm going to be cleaning the fry machine at McDonald's, so yeah, I took steroids."

I can respect that kind of candor. Not that it makes it okay to break the rules or anything, but I know plenty of people who inexplicably think it's okay to cheat through high school or falsify their resumes in the holy name of advancing their own interests, and then hypocritically turn right around and tut-tut the rash of athletes on PEDs.

TL;DR - Everyone's a douche. So why won't anyone just admit it?

Another Year of Not Buying NCAA Football

I vowed never to buy NCAA Football again until they put Division I-AA teams back in, and four years into the boycott, they still refuse to do it. I know you can download individual teams from Teambuilder, but that's so ghetto, like having your own name put on the back of an NFL jersey. I thought the most fun in that game was taking William & Mary to the BCS championship after 3-4 years of struggling to beat I-A teams and land recruits.

But my own idiosyncrasies aside, I don't know why they won't just put them in already. It won't take much extra space or time if they just give them all generic stadiums like they used to. I feel that NCAA is one of those games where if you don't have a personal connection with your team, there's really no motivation to play it. Why the fuck would I want to be USC or Boise State? Even in NFL games it's fun to be the Vikings for a game or two, but playing as a different school just feels wrong.

With that said, I once wrote a post a long time ago about colleges having to take the blame for their shitty graduates if they were going to take credit for the great ones, so in the interest of fairness, I apologize on behalf of my institution to the entire United States for producing Michele Bachmann, LLM '88, and Eric Cantor, JD '88 (What was it about 1988 and crazies coming out of the law school? Must have been something in the water).

Moneyball, Starring...Brad Pitt?

Brad Pitt? Did anyone even bother calling Seth McFarlane?

For the record, I did read Moneyball and I enjoyed it a lot. But it bugs me when people talk about it like it's a book about the A's and how they'll always be successful. They'll look at guys who never panned out like Jeremy Brown and conclude that the A's were actually nothing special after all.

But the book was never really about how the A's had a secret statistic or some kind of magical way of evaluating players; it was simply about exploiting the inefficiencies of the system, wherever they were. In baseball it was scouting with your gut and the over-reliance on overrated stats like batting average. It's been interesting to see that as other front offices have started to populate their staff with advanced statisticians, like the Blue Jays and the Rays, the A's have been struggling mightily. The "arbitrage" opportunities are gone.

With all that said, let's judge the A's by their Moneyball draft picks because it'll be fun and less depressing than thinking anything substantive about the Orioles:

Jeremy Brown: It feels like half the book was about this guy and how he was going to rake despite being really fat. He actually did hit for quite a bit of power (caveat: he put up those numbers in the Texas League and PCL) and put up a .370 total OBP in the minors. DFA and retired after only 10 ABs in the majors, but can say he retired as a .300 hitter. Surprised he didn't get more of a chance - I'm not sure about his defense and he probably wasn't even as good a hitter as Kurt Suzuki, but he has to have been better than Adam Melhuse.

Nick Swisher: Flew through the system until he hit Midland where he put up some horrific numbers and an inability to control the zone which soured him on more than a few scouts. Was inexplicably promoted to Sacramento, where he proceeded to tear the cover off the ball. Has settled into a pretty good hitter/middling fielder groove good for about 3-4 WAR per season.

Joe Blanton: I seriously don't know what they expected from a guy who put up a 4.59 ERA in the SEC (yeah yeah, I know ERA isn't everything, but for some reason I can't find any of his peripheral college stats), but he's been an effective innings-eater. Did have one spectacular season in 2007, worth 5.6 WAR.

Mark Teahen: Pretty much the definition of "league average" player. Had one really promising season in 2006 and never flashed that kind of power ever again. Currently owns a career .327 OBP.

I don't remember who else they picked, but they I assume they all suck.

Now, while I am NOT faulting the A's for one second for not picking the following high schoolers, since hindsight is 20/20, I do think it is interesting that in the first 4 rounds they COULD have picked:

Cole Hamels
Joey Votto
Jon Lester
Jonathan Broxton
Brian McCann
Josh Johnson

I'm not sure if the 2002 draft was an outlier, but it seems like the high school picks experienced a greater level of success than the college picks did.

Not This Again...

Look, I can forgive someone for panicking about the economy or the stock market if he/she is a layperson and doesn't really know about the economic intricacies of the Great Depression or the Savings and Loan Crisis, or whatever. But Jesus, we went through this already IN 2008! Yet again, people are wringing their hands and wondering if they should take their money out of the stock market and hide it in their mattresses.

So let's go through this again:

1. If your stock market holdings drop in value, you don't actually lose money, UNTIL YOU PANIC AND SELL IT OFF. Then you've lost that money.
2. The surest way to lose money is to hoard it in cash. If your grandpappy stuffed a dollar in his mattress in 1920 (which could have bought an entire dinner at the time) and you found it today, it wouldn't even be enough for a bottle of water. Incidentally, that's what I'm counting on for my loan balances. Ahem.

For the record, priced at 11.5x forward earnings and collectively flush with revenue, the S&P 500 is very attractive right now. In fact, the greatest appreciation I've ever realized from the market was through buying shares during the last stock market crash. Granted, I'm not 60 years old so I can stomach some volatility, but regardless, I don't understand the constant obessession with wanting to buy into already-appreciated assets.

Don't get me wrong; I still think the entire market is a gigantic Ponzi Scheme, but you could do much worse than a Ponzi Scheme so inexorably ingrained into our society.

The Latest Obstacle to Progress: Voting

Good job, Texas.

I'm going to be perfectly frank: not all people should be allowed to vote, especially my parents. Since they are both now naturalized citizens, they have enthusiastically embraced and exercised their franchise in horrifying ways.

Let's back up a couple of years. During the 2008 election cycle when Obama was campaigning on universal healthcare, my sister was unemployed and had no health insurance, as she had just reached the age cutoff for my parents' insurance plan. She's still unemployed, but hey, she majored in Art, what are you gonna do. You'd think that healthcare subsidies, or expanded eligibility under their own plan would be something they would support, but they didn't. They voted Republican all across the board, because...wait for it...Republicans are opposed to gay marriage. They would rather my sister not have access to healthcare than let gay people have a nice ceremony with rings and flowers.

You see, my parents are what can be described as "religious wackjobs." They are what is wrong with religion, and America, and parents. Unfortunately, they are identical to a large proportion of this country's constituency - they zero in on one or two minor issues or emotions and that's it. They cannot tell you whether we should expand government spending or cut deficits, or whether Keynesian theory offers a more compelling path to economic recovery than a trickle-down economic policy. And that's because they don't know and don't care.

So how does letting complete ideologues vote on issues they know nothing about yield the best outcome for our country? Shouldn't there be some kind of qualification test? (Yes, yes, shades of disenfranchisement via the literacy test, but this is really out of control.)

To bring this around full circle, I was having dinner with my parents the other day and true to form, my mom says, "We hope Rick Perry wins because we heard he had a prayer rally." I tried to explain to them that if they wanted to draw on Medicare or Social Security someday, it's probably best not to pick a candidate who thinks the two programs are unconstitutional. But hey, that's okay. He'll pray for you, at least! That is, unless he's already blocked you on Twitter.

I want to be blocked by Rick Perry too! That's this blog's new goal.

Dan Uggla and Creationism

Lest you think (as I did) that this is the first page on the web with both "Dan Uggla" and "creationism," you will be surprised to know that there are actually 1,420,000 at this very moment.

Anyway, congratulations to Dan Uggla on his 33-game hitting streak, if only because I have him on my fantasy team and he was fucking killing me up to that point. I am ashamed to say that I only kept him in my lineup because I had no viable alternatives.

Unfortunately, whenever someone stitches together a long hitting streak, writers invariably scramble to throw up stories that convey the rarity of such a streak by multiplying the odds of a one-game outcome by however many games the streak lasted. This year's offender is Joe Posnanski, who crunches some numbers and comes up with odds of 3 million to one for a Dan Uggla 33-game streak.

That sounds like an incredible number. And indeed, Dan Uggla is one of the less likely candidates due to his lack of speed and poor contact ability. But looking back in hindsight and calculating the odds to come to the conclusion that we've witnessed some sort of millenial event seriously conflates a priori and post hoc probabilities. The a priori probability may indeed be 3 million to one, but the post hoc (observed) probability is one. To his credit, Posnanski does word it correctly ("The odds of Dan Uggla on July 5, 2011, beginning a 33-game hitting streak were more than three million to one against"), but then incorrectly uses that figure to justify his awe that it occurred. In short, yes, it's cool that it was Dan Uggla and nobody could have predicted it beforehand, but honestly, it's not that big a deal that it was achieved. Indeed, 55 players have had a 30+ game streak in baseball history - Andre Ethier did it just this year!

It's like winning the lottery - the odds of a given player winning are astronomically low. But SOMEONE usually wins. We correctly are not awestruck that Joe Schmo wins the Powerball jackpot, even though his chances were one in 100 million. It's easy to see whey we can't take those a priori odds and then use them to say "Wow, I can't believe someone won that lottery, it was so unlikely."

That seems like an academic distinction (and in many ways it is), but it has serious implications for a frequent argument I see bandied about in favor of creationism. It goes something like this: "The odds of all the wonderful things in the world arising through random mutation are so low, it couldn't have happened, a creator or designer was necessary."

Um, no. Another conflation of a priori and post hoc probabilities.

It's Not News, it's CNN

There's a lot of frivolous shit that runs on CNN, but the recent iReport handwriting analysis project has to take the cake for unabashedly and uncritically promoting the dubious practice of graphology.

But first, the science, and let's not mince words. Professional handwriting experts (graphologists) basically have a predictive ability of zero in comparison to an untrained layperson in determining personality traits. Handwriting analysis is of use in revealing some traits, such as gender and maybe age, but telling someone their own age and gender are somewhat less compelling parlor tricks.

Not surprisingly, the iReporters in the project (God, I hate that name) who had their handwriting "analyzed" were overwhelmingly convinced that the analyst had them pegged. And why not? Just like a horoscope, all the statements were vague enough to apply to anybody:

"Huge creative imagination and strong determination/powerful and unique personality/incredible honesty" - As opposed to a weak and generic personality. I got mine at the Apple Store.

"Strong knee-jerk reaction to silly rules" - Versus those of us who immediately embrace silly rules?

"Covertly subversive relating to authority" - So you secretly break rules sometimes, astonishing reach.

"Flexible attitude when it comes to deadlines and people" - We all have flexible attitudes. That's why deadlines exist.

Unfortunately, it is utterly predictable that people will think that their personal handwriting analysis (or horoscope) is spot-on; there is a human cognitive tendency to interpret vague, general statements as very accurate as long as they are told that the statement is tailored specifically for them. It's called the Forer Effect for the guy who described it, or alternatively the Barnum Effect (yes, the circus guy), because he once said something like "We have something at the circus for everybody." In the same way, in each one of the graphologist's statements, there is indeed something for everyone to grasp and apply to him or herself.

Mom and Pop Stores, the Shitstain on America's Underwear

And this is not a discussion of "what is the impact of supercenters with respect to wages vs. increased buying power?" etc. etc., for which I have no idea. I simply mean that all my worst buying experiences have been at small mom-and-pop type stores. They have the highest prices, the most draconian policies regarding everything, and the surliest customer service. I have no idea where the pervasive apotheosis of small business owners comes from.

Case in point: when I was a freshman in high school, I was really into comics. Yeah, a 5'3" freshman into video games and comics...I HOPE YOU BROUGHT A CHANGE OF PANTIES, WOMEN OF AMERICA. So I walk the 2.5 miles (I walked a lot in those days because my mother was useless) to this place I've heard has a great selection of obscure comics, the adorably named Hole in the Wall Books.

And it is indeed a treasure trove of great titles I've read about but have never seen for sale anywhere else. I'm eagerly flipping through the bin and circular rack and pulling out the issues I want to buy and setting them aside. I want to emphasize that that's all I was doing, though I might have opened a book here and there to quickly glance at the interior. I wasn't, like, opening a book and sitting down in a lounge chair with a coffee and a pipe.

I must have been there about 15 minutes, and then the douchebag behind the counter says to me, "Okay, you've just about hit your browsing limit." I was too timid back then to say what I would if it happened today. Sorry to take time away from your daily newspaper reading so you can watch me to make sure I'm not stealing anything, dickwad.

I meekly paid for the five or so comics I'd picked out and left. That was 15 years ago and I never went back. Other experiences at small mom and pop stores haven't been as overtly negative, but I strain to think of any that have otherwise distinguished themselves. For fuck's sake, I just want to go in, look around as long as I want in air conditioning, maybe pee, and then pay with a credit card. You're never going to compete with Wal-Mart's economies of scale selling Charmin toilet paper, so stop complaining and start selling something Wal-Mart doesn't carry.

Or get friendlier.

Curiosity: How Did This Show Get Greenlighted?

So the Discovery Channel is kicking off a new series called Curiosity, in which a series of guest hosts come on and tackle the universe's most inscrutable questions, such as "Why is sex fun?" and "Could we survive an alien attack?"

As banal as that already sounds, the premiere show is "Did God create the universe?" and is inexplicably hosted by Stephen Hawking - the same Stephen Hawking who is already on the record as stating that no, God did not create the universe. Are we supposed to feel any actual suspense about the outcome of this question? This is like having a show called Curiosity: Is Obama a Socialist?, hosted by Michele Bachmann.

But the one that gets me is the alien attack episode, hosted by Michelle Rodriguez. Of course, her credentials in science are impeccable - she's been expelled from 5 schools, drives drunk and once banged Vin Diesel - but at the risk of stepping on her toes, I would say that no, we have no chance of surviving an attack by a race of aliens advanced enough to build ships that can traverse thousands of light years.

Dear Congress:

WTF is the matter with you guys?



I don't know what's worse, the fact that our government is dysfunctional enough to play a hugely unnecessary game of chicken in which only the citizens have anything at stake, or that there are actually people who think the Democrats and Republicans should "compromise" or "meet in the middle" in a delightfully wrongheaded argumentum ad temperantiam.

So if one faction argues that the world is round and another argues that the world is flat, the best outcome for humanity is to agree that the world is dome-shaped? Preposterous. Somebody should remind the O-Dawg. Who cares if the Republicans won't let you pass anything? You've got the 14th Amendment behind you, brother! Well, sort of.

Also, it's time we instituted one-year term limits so those obsolete bastards can stop constantly bitching about being re-elected. I'm going with a no-incumbent ballot this time around; I don't care if you eat babies in your spare time to get your rocks off, if you weren't in Congress you have my vote.

Except Al Franken, he can stay.

My God, It Finally Happened!

It's not that. I'm 30, for crying out loud.

No, ever since I learned that the Astros had three pitching Rodriguezes on their team, I've been hoping to see them all deployed, one after the other, so that the box score would read nothing but "Rodriguez." Up to this point, this has been nothing more than a pipe dream, but BEHOLD:

Goodbye iPhone, Hello Droid Charge

I had already dabbled in Android with the Evo 4G last year, before deeming it unacceptable overall. I went with the more polished iPhone 4, which I have to admit has been a pretty good phone when you don't touch the bare drop-your-call-immediately corner. The battery life and call quality are really good. It looks stylish, everything works and iOS has a lot of developer support. It's just so...bland. You can't even change your SMS or email tones. A lot of people in my office have the iPhone 4 and when we get emails or our calendar alerts go off, they all sound exactly the same; the office sounds like the Carol of the Bells with everyone dinging the same note. Wasn't this the company that told you to "Think Different"?

In contrast, I love Android's customizability. I love that you can play Super Nintendo games and change all the system fonts to kiddie scribble fonts. So much freedom! Sure, you'll accumulate viruses like a freshman chick in a frat house, but hey...you gotta live once in a while.

So I had been meaning to switch to Verizon (because Verizon has the best service on the Metro, which I take every day), but I got lazy and never did. However, when the news broke that Verizon was cutting off unlimited data on July 7, I had to get on board, because I use tons of data. It's now or never! Yes, I am only halfway through my contract with AT&T, but who cares? They'll charge me an exorbitant ETF and we'll all move on with our lives.

So I opted for the Droid Charge. It's not perfect. I'm not even sure it's *good* yet. But what I CAN say is...wow:



The iPhone is reporting in Mbps and the Charge in Kbps, but the difference is still remarkable.

Finally: The Lark Up Alarm Clock Review

Well, I finally have my Lark alarm after something of a delivery snafu (which turned out to be a tracking quirk), and after spending a couple of days using the Lark (I know it's short, more details to follow), I will render preliminary judgment on this rather expensive alarm clock. The base model will set you back $129, plus you need an iOS device.



First, the packaging is surprisingly professional. I've bought a lot of things from small startups before, and usually the packaging announces the smallness of the startup right from the outset. No such problem here though - it looks JUST like the typical Belkin accessory box hanging on the wall at the Apple Store. Which is probably the intent, as I understand this will start selling through the Apple Store in short order.



Open the box and you are immediately struck by the paucity of the overall package - for better or for worse. It's the dock, the cable, the receiver, and the velcro band. That's it. No manual, no registration cards, nothing. The instructions are printed on the panels of the box and the cardboard insert, but they are somewhat lacking in comprehensiveness. The Lark website has a more complete, consolidated manual that is worth perusing. It's nice to see someone attempting to curb wastefulness, I suppose.

The sensor is remarkably light and I'm surprised it has Bluetooth circuitry and a vibration motor; I never would have guessed from simply handling it. The wristband is kind of a neoprene-type strap with a velcro closure. It fits my girly 6.5 inch wrists just fine with no excess strap hanging off.



The dock is outfitted in somewhat cheap plastic - Brookstone plastic, as I like to call similar Chinese-made devices with that...kind of cheap silvery painted plastic. I don't know how else to describe it. It has a rubber-lined cutout for your iDevice (which I am happy to report is cut with enough wiggle room to accommodate the iPhone 4 plus the bumper) and a small recessed area with a mini-USB plug to charge the wristband sensor. It also has a USB port in the back so you can plug your iDevice in. I would have preferred that it had some sort of integrated charging port connector or (admittedly at a higher cost) inductive charging solution, but it is what it is. For what it's worth, it doesn't use a whole lot of power overnight; my iPhone only lost about 6% charge unplugged.

Once the sensor is paired with your device, you are prompted to download the Lark app from the App Store. It's a pretty bare-bones app with a tab for controlling the alarm, accessing your sleep history, and using the sleep coach (which requires a Lark Pro membership I didn't pay for). Unfortunately, I also cannot access my sleep history; I registered on the website, but the app keeps throwing me a "Could not authenticate" error when I try to sign in.*



The alarm controls are similarly bare-bones. You can set the alarm time, snooze interval, and "peace of mind" setting, which is the amount of time the app will wait before sounding an audible alarm (should you ignore the vibration or the battery dies on the sensor), but you only have two choices for this setting: 2 minutes and 5 minutes. There are no frills like automatic workday/weekday profiles or anything like that, though you do have the option of setting multiple alarms, and since you'll have to go into the app every day anyway, you can pick the alarm you want. Unfortunately, you cannot pair multiple sensors with one phone for his/hers (or his/his, hers/hers, etc.) alarms.

The wristband is fairly comfortable, aided in no small part by the lightness of the sensor I mentioned earlier. Unfortunately, the way the sensor tells you that it is active is by flashing a green LED, which in the dead of night can be quite annoying if you sleep with your wrist next to your face, because I can see it blinking through my eyelids. I didn't feel like staying up to see if it ever turned off; I just shoved my wrist under the covers. (EDIT: It does turn off after 2 minutes, see comments below) Not surprisingly, the sensor is not user-serviceable, so when the battery reaches the end of its lifespan, you'll presumably need to buy another one at a premium price.

So does it work? Amazingly, coming from someone who has slept through an earthquake, it does. The vibration seemed so weak I didn't think it would be very effective, but it got me up without too much of a problem. The catch is that while it purportedly tracks the quality of your sleep, it makes no claims about using that data to wake you at an optimal time, like the Axbo or the Zeo (leaving aside for the moment whether or not the science in those cases is valid). So your subjective wake experience is not THAT much easier than a regular alarm. I was just as groggy and miserable as I was with the regular alarm - it just doesn't disturb my girlfriend as much anymore. The latter is a laudable goal in itself, certainly, but how is this different from any of the vibration wrist alarms already on the market for $100+ less? The sensor is certainly sleeker. Maybe the sleep history would be a draw if the website would let me sign in. Outside of that, the value proposition is dubious at best.

Full disclosure: I am also compelled to mention that I meant to test the Lark for a week but only managed one night and one nap, because now the battery in my sensor is dead by the morning and refuses to vibrate.** I was hoping to see what it was really made of by staying up until 3:00 a.m. and trying to get up at 6:00, but my plans were sadly dashed. I am pursuing an RMA forthwith (and forthwith it must be; the warranty is a shamefully scant 30 days!), but at any rate, the entire Lark experience seems a bit half-baked at the moment. I am not unsympathetic to the hurdles that a startup faces in bringing a new product to market, but even in that context, the QA is slightly lacking.

I really wanted to like the Lark, and since it's a sunk cost for me and less annoying for my girlfriend, I'll keep the unit should they replace it. But it's a trickier proposition for someone on the fence. Truth be told, $129 is a small price to pay to save a relationship, but I daresay your alarm going off an hour earlier than your partner's is rarely the only obstacle between you and eternal loving bliss. I'll update this review if additional testing or data necessitate it, but at this juncture, I would avoid the Lark. It's just not mature enough to be worth the scratch right now.

*Update 1: I finally was able to sign in to the sleep history and it is actually pretty interesting. It tells you how many times you woke up during the night and rates the quality of your sleep. I have no idea how they come to that determination. There is a graph but they don't explain what the graph means.

**Update 2: The battery issue seems to have sorted itself out. My earlier assessments haven't changed, but for what it's worth, the team has been very polite and responsive.

Okay Guys, For the Love of God, Stop Sending Dick Pics

As the Anthony Weiner saga unfolded, I was greatly saddened that (what I thought was) a smart man learned nothing from Brett Favre. Women are not turned on by dick pics, unless they're already sleeping with you. Sorry guys, but it's true. She'll just show her friends and laugh, and then save the picture to her dick pics folder, no matter how nice or humongous your cock happens to be. Because let's face it; even the nicest cock is pretty ridiculous-looking.

To be fair, men do this because we evaluate our actions based on what would turn US on. For example, if a woman sent a picture of her naked body to a man, he would be both flattered and sexually aroused. Unfortunately, because God hates humanity, women also evaluate their actions based on what would turn them on, which is why instead of sending you a beautiful picture of her vagina, she sends you a text saying "i had a shitty day, do u want to meet and talk about it?" And verily, men and women continue to do the crab dance around each other.

So men of the world, stop sending pictures of your junk to random women. You really want to get them wet, here you go, send this:

Lark Up Alarm Review: Uh, Postponed (UPDATE: Posted)

UPDATE - Review Posted: http://writtenanderased.blogspot.com/2011/06/finally-lark-up-alarm-clock-review.html

My Lark Up alarm clock was delivered today:




Awesome...except for one minor detail: I don't live in New Jersey.

A New Frontier in Waking Up

Anyone who has even a cursory knowledge of me knows that I can't wake up for shit. I don't know, it's just hard for me for some reason; it's been like that my whole life. My parents contend that it's because I am lazy, which I am. But this is something completely different - I can sleep right through my alarm, or even more...ahem...*alarmingly,* sometimes I turn off my alarm and don't even remember doing it when I wake up later. I've always joked that I could sleep through an earthquake, and July of last year, I actually did.

So I'm always on the cutting edge of sleep research. And by "on the cutting edge of sleep research," I mean I've bought every single wake-up aid product sold in every dank corner of the Internet. I even spent $300 on the Axbo. Doesn't work.

Naturally, I was one of the first to preorder the Lark when it was announced in October, and it finally shipped on Wednesday. Supposedly, it uses vibration on your wrist to rouse you, and while I inexplicably can't find it any more, I swear they were claiming on their website that it woke up all of their heaviest sleeping test subjects. Bitch please. Test it on someone who slept through an earthquake and then come back to me.

Will it work? Stay tuned!

Andy Phillips’ Autograph is Not Worthless; it’s Worth Much Less than Worthless

Poor Andy Phillips. After homering on the first major league pitch he ever saw, he went on to hit only 13 more, due partly to injury and personal misfortune. By all accounts, Phillips is a nice guy and has never been in serious trouble with the law or anything like that. Thus, unfortunately, it is solely his lack of success on the field that has pushed the value of his autograph to below $0. That’s right, his autograph is worth $-7.00:

Price for Andy Phillips Autographed Official Major League Baseball: $9.99 (if you don't want to give them your e-mail address, screenshot is here)

Price for regular Official Major League Baseball: $16.99

Need some pregame fungo balls? Might as well buy out the Andy Phillips balls from Steiner. They’ll PAY you to take them over an unsigned ball. Granted, if I signed a baseball, I’d drive down the value too, since it would then be “blemished.” But I never played in the majors – are there no Andy Phillips fans anywhere?

Ode to Ozzie

Not Ozzie Smith. Ozzie Guillen. I have now officially run the full gamut from being disgusted by him, to grudgingly accepting him, to desperately wishing he would somehow come manage the Orioles. Not only does he win, but I am so tired of mealy-mouthed coaches who are "noncommittal" about everything or march out the same old tired tropes like "Just taking things one game at a time" when asked about an impending firing. Please. Do it Ozzie-style:

"You think Jerry come to me and say, 'We might fire you?' What do you think I’m gonna say, no? Hey man you got a lot of reasons to do it. How many games have we lost?”

Awesome.

Some other highlights:

On quitting: "I'm not a quitter. When I want to quit, I'll do a lot of stupid things and make sure they fire me and get paid."

On why Wrigley sold out for the Sox-Cubs interleague tilt but the Cell did not: "Because our fans are not stupid like Cubs fans. They know we're shit."

On Dustin Pedroia: "That kid should be in the circus and I have to walk him to face someone else. He should be riding some horses and I have to walk that kid. It’s very weird when you walk a guy who is 4-foot-11."

On what motivates coaches: "Our satisfaction is to win games. That’s the only thing we really care about. You look at our salary [it] sucks. The only reward we have as coaches is winning."

Friday's Forecast: Sunny, with Apocalypse

Seriously, according to Weather.com, it looks like tornadoes all week, finally culminating in a "severely" sunny day:

Dear Jeff Mathis: You are hitting .192. STFU.

So Jeff Mathis has been riding the pine an awful lot lately, and apparently he is not pleased. I think that believing in yourself and your ability is an admirable quality, but seriously...Jeff, you are hitting .192. And your career average is .199. You had no business starting ahead of Mike Napoli, ever.

"But Eugene," you say, "surely the runs he saves with his glove outweigh the putridness of his contributions with the bat." I think that's the conventional wisdom, but oops, by at least one measure, that's not true.

Farewell, Manny Ramirez

For the record, I never really ever liked the guy, but I don't get all the Manny-bashing as he departs. Sure, you can get on him for the cheating and the loafing, but what is it with bashing professional athletes for caring only about the money?

When you're not a celebrity, for some reason it's okay to think only about the money. Any job advice board will tell you that you shouldn't feel any loyalty to your company or department team because they won't show any loyalty to you when job cut time rolls around. While there may be some truth to that, it appalls me that people nowadays think nothing of using their current office's computer and equipment to look for new jobs, or leaving holes in big projects to jump to new positions on 2 days notice. What an egregious double standard.

I heard a lot of the same thing when Albert Pujols was negotiating this past offseason with the Cardinals. "God, I hope he's not selfish and in it for just the money!" What else would he be in it for? He's already got a title. The fucking nanosecond he starts struggling all the fans will turn on him and write stupid Bleacher Report articles about how the Cards should have signed Adam Dunn.

Of course, we hold celebrities to a higher standard than we do for ourselves. Why? Because we all need something to bash in people who are superior to us socially and financially.

The Verdict on the Nintendo 3DS: It's Very Ugly

So I picked up the 3DS the other day and thought I'd jot down a few thoughts about Nintendo's new device.

First of all, it's much smaller than you think it's going to be. Judging by the size of the box, you'd think it was a netbook or something; alas, the system only takes up one vertical third of the packaging. In reality, it looks and feels comparable to the size of the old DS Lite. I would compare them directly, except I traded my DS Lite in for credit towards this bad boy. As you pull the system out of the foam bag, one thing is immediately apparent - the horrible, horrible two-tone died-in-the-eighties spray paint gradient color scheme on the top of the Cosmo Black variant that reminds me of a softball bat:



Further examination of the device makes me uneasy. Granted, I am an acolyte at the church of Dieter Rams, so I have an unusually acute need for symmetry and cleanness, but this thing is a trainwreck of industrial design. There are three "layers" to the system and none of their edges are flush with each other. Looking from the side:



It doesn't get any better when you look at it from the front either:



Finally, the coup de grace, the full side shot:



I'm not kidding, this system looks like one of those hodgepodge shoddily constructed pre-sale test prototypes that surface every once in a while. I'm particularly confused as to why they didn't just extend all the edges so that they lined up flush with the wider lid panel. It wouldn't have caused the system to take up more space than it already does; any case or pocket wide enough to accommodate the lid should also be able to accommodate an extension of the other two panels.

Open it up and it looks like a DS with an analog nub (large, covered in rubber, and far superior to the one on the original PSP) and bigger screens. I love the feel of the buttons - they're the perfect middle ground between the original DS (too clicky and no throw) and the DS Lite (too spongy).

The 3D effect is very cool, and if you've ever seen one of those Magic Eye posters, you'll be familiar with the eye acrobatics that are necessary. However, this method of stereoscopic 3D makes the image quality overly dependent on your ability to keep the visual sweet spot of focus and distance and position. Any variance among any of these variables can make the image break down completely, and that happens a lot. In fact, the AR augmented reality games that come built-in force you to move a targeting reticle by MOVING THE SYSTEM ITSELF. I could type a thousand words here about how hard it is to keep the 3D image focused while the system's slowass camera struggles to keep up with you, but I'll just say two: It sucks. And one more: Hard.

The sound, however, is fantastic, perhaps the best I've ever heard in a portable.

I only have one game, Rayman 3D, and while it's a passable title, the 3D effects are both unnecessary and sloppy. You can tell where they tried to apply the 3D with care and where they mailed it in. Generally, while you're running around the levels, things are good. During cutscenes, I don't think they did anything but just double the exact same image. During those times I see a lot of "ghosting" around the characters and it tires my eyes out. The game in general gains so little from 3D that I prefer to turn the effect off and save my eyeballs the thrashing. And then what do you have? A 12 year old Nintendo 64 game.

But I know someone will do something phenomenal with this system, I really do. Because right now, I kind of hate it, and that bodes well for its future. For the record, at release, I also hated the DS, the PS2, and the Game Boy Advance, while I loved the Lynx, the Saturn, and absolutely adored the Gamecube.

At any rate, go ahead and wait for the 3DS Lite. They've left a lot of room for improvement.

The Consolation Bracket

What a tournament this March has brought us! VCU in the Final Four? It's kind of nice to see CAA teams achieve so much success in the tournament; while I'm not sure William and Mary will ever make the tourney in my lifetime, at least everyone will know that we accomplished a 10-20 record against quality teams.

I have always considered the NIT a loser's bracket of sorts (though amazingly, I learned just this year that there are still two LOWER tournaments, the CBI and CIT), but that wasn't always the case. In fact, not many people know this, but the NIT is actually older than the NCAA Tournament, by one year. For many seasons, there wasn't a clear consensus about which champion was the actual national champion (sort of like the AP and the BCS in college football), and in at least two years, the NCAA champion lost their FIRST games in the NIT.

Alas, the NCAA would have the last laugh, by prohibiting the rejection of NCAA tournament bids by invited teams and sounding the death knell for the hapless NIT. The Metropolitan Basketball Writer's Association (which founded the NIT) settled an antitrust suit in 2005 against the NCAA which compelled the NCAA's purchase of the NIT rights for 10 years. So in a sense, the NIT is sort of an NCAA tournament too.

And William and Mary didn't make that one either.

The Toughest Pull of 1992: '92 Donruss Elite

I have always had absolutely horrid luck with sports cards, a long tradition going on almost 20 years now. You'd think I'd stop buying them at some point, but like the penniless sap still sitting at the slot machine, I never could stop pumping nickels into the bandit in the vain hope of that one humongous score. You can stop holding your breath now, it never came. But hey, the odds are still better than Powerball; even I have my limits.

When I started collecting baseball cards in the early 90s, we were already well into the self-induced nadir of the card industry, though that's only apparent in retrospect. At the time, companies were happily overprinting tons of cards and making money hand over fist, but we'll get back to that in a second.

Anyway, I had a friend who bought two packs of 1992 Donruss from 7-Eleven and pulled the #11 Elite Series Will Clark - a card that was worth $100 at the time. This friend was the complete opposite of me; lucky in cards, lucky in love...he was even a faster runner than me. I can only fervently hope he's bald and fat now, but I digress. I was a huge Will Clark fan in that era (along with Ryne Sandberg; the 1989 NLCS was my prepubescent wet dream) and naturally, I was envious. So I bought three packs myself and got absolutely nothing. Verily, my quest commenced on that day.

Now, the Elite Series set shouldn't be that rare, in theory. At 10,000 serially numbered cards of each of 10 players (plus 5000 autographed Ripkens and 7500 Rickey Henderson "Legends" variants), there are plenty of copies to go around. Some current card sets don't even produce that many entire BOXES. But Donruss printed so many damn cards that the Elite per-pack ratio turned out to be quite low. How low, exactly, in the absence of officially stated odds? It took me ten years to find out.

Needless to say, buying individual packs here and there in 1992 yielded nothing. It always bugged me, so when I was in college and had some disposable income, I bought two entire boxes off eBay. Nothing. I then bought FOUR boxes...again, zip.

I will spare you the entire sordid process, but suffice it to say my credit card took a beating as I futilely chased my white whale. I finally went all-in on an entire case about four years ago (that's 20 boxes), and pulled the Rickey Henderson Legends card. Then I promptly lost it. Oh well, the journey is sweeter than its end. I purchased another case last week--that's how rarely the cases turn up--and pulled the Puckett pictured above. So based on my sample (which is admittedly too small to make solid conclusions, but you have to start somewhere), the odds of pulling an Elite were 1 in 720 packs. Again, those are just my observed odds, but it's still eye-poppingly scarce.

In comparison, the 1992 Pinnacle Team Pinnacle set, which was also considered a super-premium insert set somewhat comparable to the Elite at the time, appears to be as common as dirt. The stated odds are 1 in 140 125 packs, but I broke two boxes and pulled three of them for observed odds of 1:24. Further testing is required, but I wouldn't be surprised if Score flat-out misstated the odds. They did the same thing in the '92-'93 hockey set, where they stated 1:36 (one per box) but you could reliably pull two per box.

UPDATE: I bought two more boxes of 1992 Pinnacle baseball and pulled squat, so my observed rate is now down to 1:48 packs. Maybe the odds are correct but it's just horrendously collated...

Best Job in the World: Business Analyst

Why? Because just like a meteorologist, you can be dead wrong and go to work the next day like nothing ever happened. In my job if I was 100% dead wrong about a prediction, I wouldn't be employed that much longer. But when you're a business analyst, nobody cares, even when you renege on your earlier views just two days later. Case in point: the new Nintendo portable system, the 3DS:

March 26, 2011: “Consumers are going to have to expect for at least the first year that possibly finding a 3DS might be difficult,” says analyst Jesse Divnich.

March 28, 2011: IndustryGamers spoke to some analysts, and they actually weren't surprised by the supply situation. "With an estimated 1.9MM units shipped into the NA/EU channel, I wouldn't anticipate any stock-outs," EEDAR's Jesse Divnich told us.

Seriously dude, it's been TWO DAYS. Yes, you were surprised, stop lying.

Would YOU trust this guy?

Offering One Trillion Dollars for Perfect Bracket!*

Once again, this year Yahoo is offering 1 million dollars to any lucky fan who is able to complete a perfect NCAA tournament bracket. Of course, they never have (and most assuredly never will) pay out the prize; the odds of actually achieving the feat are so infinitesimally low - 1 in 9 quintillion plus some change - that chances are, shall we say, fairly good nobody will ever collect in the course of human existence. Even if we count #1 and #2 seeds as first round locks, the odds are still only 1 in 36 million billion.

So given that, why does Yahoo only offer a measly 1 million dollars? They might as well offer a trillion dollars, like I am! I'm sure any insurance company would be happy to insure any ludicrous payout amount for just enough premium for one day of breakroom donuts, because that shit is just about 100% free money.

*Payout is in Zimbabwe Dollars at the USD exchange rate of 03/16/11, approx. $80.80 USD. I reserve the right to assume that anyone who files a claim is lying. All rulings are final.

Why I'd Never Live in Japan...or California

Of all the natural disasters, I think I fear earthquakes the most. I've just always conceptually regarded the ground both symbolically and practically as a bastion of stability, so it disturbs me to think that something I've always relied on could be so unstable.

Being such an earthquake-prone (and generally prosperous) country, Japan did extraordinarily well considering the sheer magnitude of their recent earthquake. Apparently they had earthquake response plans in place, which is more (I think) than I can say for most of the United States.

But with that said, Japan seems to be one of the most unfortunately located countries in the world. As most people know, the most massive earthquakes generally occur via movement at the tectonic plate boundaries. California, of course, has the boundary between the North American and Pacific plates running up its entire coastline, making that area very seismically active.

But as bad as that is (and that is BAD, because I love California), poor Japan. The Tokyo area lies on the intersection of FOUR plates:



(The 8.9 Sendai quake, I believe, was due to movement between the Pacific and Okhotsk Plates)

Anyway, the thing about earthquakes is that they are not really random. In fact, they are reasonably predictable (at least in the grand cosmological scheme of things), so lots of areas are due for an earthquake. Vancouver, San Francisco, L.A., etc.

Of course any slight variance could mean +50 years and thus probably out of the scope of my lifetime. But it still weirds me out - like living on top of a powder keg.

Use Tax Dodgers Are Destroying Small Businesses, 2011 Edition

Without fail, every year as April 15 approaches, there is a story somewhere in MSM about the Use Tax, which is the tax you're supposed to be paying for all the online purchases that year in which you weren't charged by the merchant. Yes, you are not exempt when you buy from an out-of-state retailer.

Anyway, everytime this story is posted, there is invariably a discussion of Amazon.com and how everyone wants them to start charging sales tax so that there is some kind of price parity between online stores and brick and mortar stores, presumably so people would have more incentive to patronize the latter. The argument has some folksy appeal, but let's not get too out-of-hand:

Outside the halls of state capitols, Main Street is also feeling the sting.

"They can come in my store and look at it... they can touch it, they can feel it, but then they can go home and order it online... and not pay sales tax," says Kristin Kohn, owner of two brick-and-mortar stores in downtown Indianapolis. Kohn has found it increasingly hard to compete with out-of-state online retailers who aren't collecting the local 7% sales tax.

Ms. Kohn makes the incredibly obtuse (or disingenuous, take your pick) argument that the 7% sales tax is to blame for losing business to online retailers, when a) any tax savings is far outweighed by shipping fees that are not charged at the B&M store, and b) the real issue is suboptimal pricing. The aforementioned store Ms. Kohn runs is called Silver in the City, where you can purchase All Cakes Considered for $24.95. Amazon price? $16.47. Add 7% hypothetical tax to the price for a total of about $17.62, and I'd still opt to order it. If she is selling that book for $16.47 in the store, I'm sympathetic to her argument, but I doubt she is.

I do understand that she cannot match Amazon's price in-store because of overhead costs and smaller economies of scale, and I am not saying that she should, but to implicate sales tax as a major factor in lost sales is badly missing the point.

Policenauts Review

Just like Mel Gibson, only with blue hair and not as hateful of Jews

Let's be clear about one thing from the outset - Policenauts is not a game. For the most part, the extent of its required "interaction" is repeatedly pressing the circle button down long lists of text options. I am convinced that your subjective Policenauts experience would not differ significantly if you chose to merely watch a video of someone else playing through the title.

But to be fair, nobody's ever pretended it was a game anyway; I've usually seen Policenauts (and its spiritual predecessor, Snatcher) called a "digital comic." And make no mistake - that's what it is. You have no real inventory other than a few token items that you cannot manipulate, so it can't even be called an adventure game. Granted, I knew this going in, but I thought I was prepared, as I had already endured Disc 2 of Xenogears. Alas, I was not.

You navigate through the story as the chief protagonist and pervert (more on that later), Jonathan Ingram. Jonathan is a member of the "Policenauts," essentially five space policemen charged with enforcing the law in the human space colony of Beyond Coast. On a routine spacewalk, Jonathan's suit malfunctions and he drifts off into space...where he floats in stasis for the next 25 years before being rescued and waking up in a world that--unlike him--has aged a quarter-century. He becomes a private eye in L.A., when one night his ex-wife walks in to ask his assistance in locating her missing husband. And thus, the story begins.

If it isn't blatantly obvious by now, Hideo Kojima pays homage to (or shamelessly cribs, depending on your perspective) the Lethal Weapon movies, much like he did in Snatcher with Blade Runner. In fact, this homage runs much, much deeper than just the physical appearances and mannerisms of Mel Gibson and Danny Glover; if you've seen the first couple of Lethal Weapons, you'll be able to guess much of Ed's (Jonathan's partner) background and even how the game ends, in true Hollywood deus ex machina fashion.

That's not to say that the substantive plot is anything like the Lethal Weapon movies, because it most assuredly is not, but the style of interaction of the two remains quite faithful to the source material, from Glover's "I just want to retire already and not deal with this horny renegade kid" shtick and Gibson's affections towards the fairer sex. It is the latter aspect that Kojima parodies by slathering it in every possible nook and cranny.

For starters, there is not a single ugly woman in this game. Not one. And naturally, when a game flashes a hot woman on screen and the primary game mechanic is clicking around at objects that interest you, the smutty 15-year old inside you will be compelled to click on various parts of her body. The sheer amount of dialogue that Kojima has devoted to breasts is a playful reminder that he already knows that you won't be able to resist doing it.

Consider it a small consolation for all the clicking and squinting you'll do over the course of the title. You progress the plot by essentially exhausting all the possible "hotspots" on every screen. Ask the guy about the book. Ask the guy about the computer. He mentions so-and-so. Ask about so-and-so. Ask about so-and-so again. He mentions X. Ask about X. Repeat ad infinitum. You don't ever really "solve" anything. You just keep methodically going down the dialogue tree until the person (or your character) has nothing to say and the game automatically advances you or points you towards a new scene. This is problematic at times, because you'll think you've asked about every object and exhausted every branch of the dialogue tree but the game is not advancing you. So you have to painstakingly visit every previous location and work your way through all the conversation menus to find out which obscure branch you missed. That is when the game can get a bit frustrating and tedious, though generally speaking, it doesn't happen too frequently; it's usually pretty obvious what you need to say or do.

The plot, while frequently slowed by the tendency of characters to prattle endlessly like they're reading out of the Encyclopedia Britannica, is actually fairly compelling. While ostensibly a cyberpunk thriller, Policenauts is also a missive about the inexorable human limitations that gird the march of progress, and warns us of the price of that progress. And while I wish that they had put a little more effort in concealing your enemies (one major one is apparent almost immediately), there are some genuinely surprising twists dispersed among the telegraphed ones. Additionally, the ending is rather abrupt and feels a little rushed considering the care and time with which the title builds up the framework of the story.

Occasionally your...ahem...reading is punctuated by action segments, most of which involve you trying to shoot a target by positioning the crosshairs of your gun via the directional pad. I don't know if those segments are more enjoyable for those who use the light gun or mouse peripherals, but controlling it with the regular PSX controller is a little bit of a nightmare. These sequences are not fun because it's hard to quickly and precisely locate the crosshairs, but the game is forgiving enough to start you at the beginning of those segments and not dump you back at your last save. In fact, it's worth dying a couple of times just for the occasional funny fourth wall-breaking commentary on your ability. Other than the shooting segments, there are two other decent puzzles and one task that reminds me of those old LucasArts PC game copy protection schemes ("Enter the third symbol from the left on page 23 of the manual..."). Oh yeah, you'll need this.

It is important to note that I played the patched English translation of Policenauts, and I am compelled to say that the translation is absolutely, utterly terrific. The highest compliment that I can confer is that the dialogue sounded completely natural - there are no "You spoony bard!" moments. It is quite a remarkable achievement, considering the sheer amount of text that populates this game, and a testament to the resourcefulness of the fan community. This is especially noteworthy considering Policenauts wasn't localized in the first place because it was supposedly too difficult from a technical standpoint.

When all is said and done, it's hard to know what to make of a game that basically amounts to a 10-hour movie; I suspect you'll either love it or hate it. But I will say this: it's a hell of a ride, from beginning to end, and along with Snatcher, it will probably be the most unique game you've ever played. Coupled with the quality of the story, it's a package that you shouldn't miss, minor warts and all.

8.0/10