The Errant Fool

An Idaho bill is honoring the creators of Napoleon Dynamite for promoting the state of Idaho. Among the Idaho-positive aspects of the film mentioned are taters, Uncle Rico, and the Happy Hands club.

Napoleon Dynamite has had one of those phenomenal word-of-mouth success stories - it’s goofy stew of ’80s culture (transported to today practically intact like a Rod Serling fable) and nerdy humor struck a cord with the common high school experience. This experience, according to the Idaho bill, shines a warm, fuzzy light on the potato state. From the bill:

  5        WHEREAS,  the  State of Idaho recognizes the vision, talent and creativity
  6    of Jared and Jerusha Hess in the writing and  production  of  \"Napoleon  Dyna-
  7    mite\"; and
  8        WHEREAS,  the scenic and beautiful City of Preston, County of Franklin and
  9    the State of Idaho are experiencing increased tourism and economic growth; and
 10        WHEREAS, filmmaker Jared Hess is a native Idahoan who was educated in  the
 11    Idaho public school system; and
 12        WHEREAS,  the  Preston  High School administration and staff, particularly
 13    the cafeteria staff, have enjoyed notoriety and worldwide attention; and
 14        WHEREAS, tater tots figure prominently in this film thus promoting Idaho's
 15    most famous export; and
 16        WHEREAS,  the  friendship  between  Napoleon  and  Pedro   has   furthered
 17    multiethnic relationships; and
 18        WHEREAS,  Uncle Rico's football skills are a testament to Idaho athletics;
 19    and
 20        WHEREAS, Napoleon's bicycle and Kip's skateboard promote better air  qual-
 21    ity  and  carpooling  as alternatives to fuel-dependent methods of transporta-
 22    tion; and

There’s much, much more. However, I must ask, did these guys actually watch the film?

Uncle Rico’s football skills are a testament to Idaho athletics…

Huh? Is this the same Uncle Rico who internet-ordered a time machine and claimed to be able to throw a football over a mountain? If he’s a testament to athletics, it’s to the embittered softball player who feels like bad coaching, the system, race and/or injuries kept him from becoming the a superstar on the pro level. Like Rico, he now works a menial job while pining over missed opportunities to win the state championship or just the local bowling, softball, or par 3 golf leagues.

Still, kudos and congratulations to Napoleon Dynamite and its creators. They somehow managed to make 1980s nerd-ism cool again. It couldn’t have come soon enough.

Filed under: film, napoleon-dynamite, idaho, house, concurrent, resolution, 29

12 people have been killed over the past week in Nigeria. Why? Because they’ve been accused of having the ability to make a person’s genitals disappear. Have they checked with David Copperfield?

According to the BBC News:

Police in the south western Nigerian state of Osun say they have embarked on a constant patrol after mobs lynched at least 12 people since last weekend.

All the killings occurred after the victims were accused of making people’s genital organs disappear.

Several of the killings were particularly gruesome, the victims burned to death after a member of the mob “raised an alarm that his penis had disappeared.” I don’t think the angry lynchers asked to verify his story.

The police have apparently disbanded the mobs for the time being and deployed plain-clothes police officers to quell any rising hysteria. As for the man whose penis had supposedly disappeared? It hadn’t and he’s been arrested.

I’d just like to know how rumors like this get started. Let’s face it, guys often check on the status of their other selves during the day. I doubt if it disappeared, it would take long to figure it out. I think having to sit down to pee might be the first warning sign. And if it was gone, I wouldn’t be shouting around to advertise it. Of course, how it could disappear would have to be magic because, unlike the song by King Missile, they aren’t generally detachable. I blame David Copperfield.

Filed under: nigeria, lynch, mob, genitals, disappear

“I am Lothar, of the Hill People”
- Lothar (Mike Meyers, Saturday Night Live)

“This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;”
- Henry IV (Shakespeare)

The last couple of years, my experience at the Renaissance Festival has been disappointing. They’ve shrunken down the jousting area and banished the Society for Creative Anacronism. Don’t get me wrong. It’s still fun. Just not as fun. This year held one highlight unlooked for, a boon hidden amid the shops, goblins, and fairies: Sholo the Nubian.

From whence he came, I know not, perhaps even Nubia. A big man (dubbed “big swoll” by my friends), he spoke with great eloquence about men and war and women with a mix of Shakespearian dialog (I recognized elements at least of Henry IV’s famous “St. Crispin’s Day” speech at one point) and verse.

It wasn’t what I had expected. He could have used the massive blade at his side to split watermelons Gallagher-style and I would have been fairly satisfied. This, however, was different, and much better.

Sholo called me back, drilled down past the commercialism, the ever-increasing shadow of Disney (rising like the doom of Mordor in the east), to the honest core of the renaissance festival , to the very spark that illumines my interest every year.

Much of the festival is, in the end, forgettable: the familiarity of the food, shops, and games numbs their appeal. A few moments stand out and among them stands Sholo of Nubia. Sholo shall be remembered.

Filed under: texas, renaissance, festival, medieval, sholo-the-nubian

Ah, the office prank. Done poorly, it may end it crushed spirits, broken friendships, and possibly dismemberment. When done well, however, it can be a thing of beauty. Such is the case of the prank perpetrated on a friend of mine. She received the following note, along with a picture to show her adversaries meant business.

From: Pumpkinnapped
Sent: Tuesday, October 18, 2005 5:00 PM
To: Elizabeth Kuharick
Subject: WE HAVE YOUR FRIENDS

Ms. Kuharic,

Follow instructions and no one will get hurt. If you have not already noticed, two of your friends are missing. One is your holiday pal. The other is yellow and has a bum leg. Both are safe and will remain that way provided you follow our directions:

1. Do not call the police. I assure you, you will get them back if you meet our demands. If you bring others into this, you’ll only be hurting your friends.
2. Do not go around your workplace trying to sniff out the culprit. You will not succeed, we are not your co-workers.
3. THE RANSOM:

   Phase 1

   At approximately 12pm, you will make a call to the Pizza Hut at Richmond and 610. (I’m sure you have the resources to find that number). Place an order for two large pan pizzas. The first should have pepperoni and mushrooms, the second canadian bacon and pineapples. Alert the short lady with the glasses at the front desk you will be expecting the delivery. When it arrives, pay the delivery person. Include a nice tip so as not to arouse any suspicion. NOTE*** If you try to signal the delivery man, your friends will pay the price.

   Phase 2

   Take the pizzas across to the Fox studios (do not try to signal security!!). Go to the atrium just off the kitchen. Leave them on granite counter thing that looks out of place out there and walk away. By the time you get back to your office your friends will be there waiting. Keep in mind your friends are in a precarious place right now. Should you deviate from the plan in any way, they will take a tumble off the ledge at the entrance of your building. To show you we mean business, we have attached two pictures. Show them to no one!!

Your pumpkin/cownappers

She followed the instructions and, thankfully, her office ornaments were returned unharmed. The identity of the perpetrators still remains a mystery (actually, I invoked a bit of creative license, she found who did it, but only afterwards.)

Filed under: office, prank, halloween, kidnap, ransom, pumpkin

The stage had been set. We could feel it in the pits of our stomachs. With one strike to go in game 5, Albert Pujols breaks our hearts and our spirits with a three run bomb to force the National League Championship Series back to St. Louis. Oh, no, we think to ourselves, here it comes. Another post-season collapse, another season sputters and falls just short. Not this year, not this team. Showing same grit and determination that allowed the team to crawl out of a 15-30 hole to win the wild card, the Astros are headed for the Fall Classic.

Over the last 15 years or so, the Bagwell-Biggio years, the Astros have not been known as a clutch team, if anything, they were known as a team to fold when the pressure of the playoffs was turned up. They also had the bad luck to get matched up with the Braves and their pitching during the heyday of Maddox, Smoltz, and Glavine. Tonight, however, they proved again, as they have done all season and through the postseason, that they can come up big when the chips are down.

Craig Biggio 2 for 5, 1 run, 1 RBI
Brad Ausmus 3 for 4, 1 run

On a night when resident power producer Lance Berkman went 0 for 4, the veterans stepped up with key offensive production. Where the Astros of years past worked for the long ball, this team plays with a small ball mentality and tonight was no exception: hit and runs, bunts, a suicide squeeze; all the fine points, the dots on the “i”.

They could not play this way without dominant pitching and they got it from Roy Oswalt, who was dominating and earned the Most Valuable Player honor for the series.

Roy Oswalt 7 innings pitched, 3 hits, 1 earned run, 6 strikeouts

With an exceptional command of his fastball, Oswalt was able to keep the potent Cardinal hitters, particularly the lethal middle of the lineup, from doing any damage.

David Eckstein 0 for 3
Jim Edmonds 0 for 3
Albert Pujols 0 for 4
Larry Walker 1 for 4
Reggie Sanders 0 for 3

An early at-bat between Oswalt and Pujols exemplifies the futility of the St. Louis batters: Oswalt sends Pujolz back to the bench with an inside fastball that cut the slugger out and sent him pinwheeling through the batters box. Pujolz, batting .304 for the series and hero of game 5, was helpless.

The Cardinals were not helped by an abrupt loss of composure on the part of starter Mark Mulder who, in the third inning, let two hits unravel him to the tune of two runs. A solo home-run by Jason Lane in the next inning chased the former A’s ace. It was all they would need, although they added another three runs for good measure.

Now the Astros head to Chicago, underdogs again, and, for the first time this postseason, up against, arguably, a better pitching staff but they’ll get their chance, and that’s all a team can ask for. That’s all Craig Biggio and Jeff Bagwell have labored for, for 33 years between them, for a city and a franchise that has struggled mightily for any success, let alone the highest level of acheivement.

During the postgame press coverage, teammates were asked repeatedly about the original Killer B’s: how does it feel for them? Are you glad for them? There were not two players playing that I wished for more to reach the World Series and they could not have done it in a fashion more in keeping with the way both men have played their entire careers: with grit, with determination, with fire. They ran out every hit, dove for every ground ball, and epitomized that great baseball epithet: playing the game the way it was meant to be played. Now they get to play in the World Series. Finally. Exhale, pump our fists, jump up and down, and get ready for Saturday in Chicago.

Filed under: houston, astros, st.-louis, cardinals, national, league, championship, world-series, baseball, sports

A British couple, unwilling to pony up £120 in speeding tickets, crafted a cunning plan to frame an invented Bulgarian named Konstantin Koscov to take the rap. The tomfoolery included a trip to Bulgaria from which the Bonnie of our Bonnie and Clyde duo mailed a postcard to cinch the frame. I don’t know what airline ticket prices are running right now from Britain to Bulgaria but dare I guess that a round-trip might run more than £120? Oh, the tangled webs we weave.

From The Times Online:

The card, however, only served to confirm police suspicions and last night the previously comfortable world of the Bromleys was threatening to cave in around them as they faced up to an £11,000 fine and investigation by their professional body.

The postcard’s text did not run true, in it the devious Mr. Koscov thanked the couple for the use of their car. The police rightfully saw through the thinly veiled subterfuge. The couple plead guilty to perverting the courts of justice and now face fines and costs of over £11,000. And they say crime doesn’t pay.

Filed under: traffic, tickets, britain, bulgaria, konstantin-koscov

I admit it: it’s great as a Houston fan to watch the hometown team usher the Braves to another early postseason exit. After all the heartache they have heaped on us, turnabout is only fair play. To read the reactions of the Braves faithful, however, you would think the team lost every game of the season, refused to help an old woman across the street, and, for good measure, kicked a cat. I suffered through registering at the The Atlanta Journal-Consititution to present a few sage tidbits from the foiled fans of the Peach state, along with some humble commentary.

From “tbo”:

Fitting end. Everyone in the entire city knew how this would end. With BC’s managerial gems and Reeksma and the rest of the bullpen stinking it up, it was inevitable. I am so tired of seeing runners left of 3rd with less than two outs. It is a joke. Way to hit it Giles, Andrew, Chipper, and Franco. Excuse me while I go throw up.

I can feel his pain, there were many years when our big players turned in 0-fors in a series. The post-season tribulations of Bagwell, Biggio, and their rotating cast of co-stars has been well known but you’ve got to keep the faith!

From “Viper”:

I can’t speak for anyone else, but when LaRoche doesn’t know how to run the bases, I blame the manager. When Giles doesn’t know how to bunt, I blame the manager. And when in the 8th Hudson is jerked with a 5 run lead because a couple of men get on base, I blame the manager…For all the hoopala about how great Cox is, he is no teacher, his strategy is based on his “hunches”, and he doesn’t know how to handle pitchers.

Uh, Viper, you do know that the strength of the Braves through their historic run of penants has been their pitching? Okay, the bullpen is off this year. It happens. But Bobby Cox doesn’t know how to handle pitchers? I don’t think you’ll find to many baseball minds that will agree with you on that one.

As for hunches, everyone hates them when they fail and loves them when they work. When the ’stros were winning under Larry Dierker, everybody loved how he felt his way through the game. When things turned south, that same element of his coaching was the rallying cry for the haters screaming for his head. And I guarantee the same thing is happening with Garner. Everybody loves it now because we’re winning but just wait until we lose…

Finally, from “Georgia Fan 4 Life”:

WOW!!!!!!! What a game!!!! But again we are on the wrong end of the final result. I do not care if we have won 14 division titles. That means nothing if out of those 14 we have won only “1” world series. Better yet we continue to get bounced out in the first round of the NLCS… I don’t think I can continue to take the ridicule from my friends for being a Braves fan.

Guess what, Georgia, the Astros have never won a World Series! And we’re not the only ones that either haven’t ever or haven’t in living memory. Would you rather be a Cubs or White Sox fan? I understand the frustration of watching excellence evaporate in the playoffs year after year but this team, under this management, has won the ultimate prize. I can’t say that for the Houston team. Isn’t it better to have won and lost than never to have won at all?

It would be too easy to pile on the Braves as the conquering heros. I feel for them and their fans, having been in their shoes many years before. The aftermath of the final loss is always the darkest night before the dawn of a new season and, clearly, Braves fans are feeling the deep gloom and doom of the moment.

If there is something that we all, as fans of both teams, can hang our hats on is that we witnessed one of the great games of all time: the longest game, the only game ever with two grand slams, and enough tension, excitement, and highs and lows to fill an entire playoffs. As Astros manager Phil Garner said in the postgame news conference, “It’s a shame one team had to lose but I’m glad we won.” Amen to that.

Filed under: mlb, major-league-baseball, baseball, playoffs, houston, astros, atlanta, braves, fan, reactions

Reality trumps the SciFi channel. Burmese pythons are jockeying with the native aligators for the top spot in the in the Florida Everglades food chain. One python was immortalized in a photograph, exploded after trying to digest an unlucky alligator. It’s beast against beast in the swamp.

According to the associated article:

The snake was found with the gator’s hindquarters protruding from its midsection. [Frank Mazzotti, a University of Florida wildlife professor] said the alligator may have clawed at the python’s stomach as the snake tried to digest it.

The snake suffered every gourmand’s nightmare: murdered by its meal. The rowdy reptiles are proving themselves no easy lunch for the imported snakes. All indications in the field suggest that the ‘gators and the pythons are evenly matched: half the time, the alligator wins, the other half the snake.

The immigrant pythons, imports set loose by lazy or disinterested pet owners, pose a threat to native species. If they can hold their own against the apex predator alligators, it means every other animal is at risk. This means that, unlike SciFi channel movies, they can actually have an impact.

Filed under: science, alligators, pythons, florida, everglades, scifi

Monday Night Football gets worse every year. Despite the best intentions of the schedulers, they have developed a knack for choosing the wrong games with the wrong teams at the wrong times. Last night was no different. The Packers are halfway down the slippery slope to the ineptitude of their 1980s years while the Panthers are trying valiantly to prove everyone who picked them for the Super Bowl dead wrong. I never thought I’d say this, but thank goodness for Jimmy Snuka.

I usually watch the Monday night game at a sports-bar with a couple of friends of mine. On the large bank of TVs, the game was on the center, feature TV, while various other sports-type shows graced the surrounding, satelite screens. One of these screens is inevitably turned to wrestling. To be specific, the WWE product, Monday Night Raw.

I watched wrestling in high school, “back in the day” as it were. Today’s product is less wrestling than a mixture of bizarre soap opera and soft porn. Last night was some special event (I couldn’t tell what exactly because the volume was muted). A bunch of the old-school wrestlers, the wrestlers of my youth, were in attendance. As they panned across the assembled squared-circle greats, we picked out “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan, Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka, “The Million Dollar Man” Ted Dibiasi, “The American Dream” Dusty Rhodes, and others. Here was Mean Gene. There was Jimmy Hart. Over in the back was Nicholai Volkoff. Who’s that guy? My friend and I, we began to craft a sort-of fantasy, where the old-schoolers would rise up out of their chairs and take over the ring. But it was just a fantasy, wasn’t it?

No! It was real! …Okay it wasn’t real but it happened. There they were, the mighty assemblage of past stars in the ring for a ceremony (I guess - again, no volume) when some scrub decides to come into the ring and start some trouble. We held our collective breaths. The scrub says his piece. Then there’s a pause. A long pause. A pause pregnant with anticipation.

Then he’s hit - first by Hacksaw, then by… somebody else, then Dusty Rhodes does his awful dance and gives him an elbow to the head. The scrub teeters, spins, stumbles, bumbles, and wheels drunkenly right into the Von Erich claw! Felled and flat on the mat from the impact of the famed claw attack, a very old, worn out Jimmy Snuka scrambles up to the top turnbuckle. He can’t, he won’t, it’ll kill him… he does! The crowd goes wild!

By crowd, I’m talking about the patrons of the sports bar. I can only assume how the patrons of the live event felt. There we were, grown men, for a few moments transported back to our youth, when these men, now old, out-of-shape, faded from prime, were monsters of the mat, when we believed the Von Erich claw might actually kill a man, when we wondered how anyone survived a top rope splash from the Superfly, when we thought the American Dream’s dance added power to his punches.

The moment passed. In the fourth quarter, Brett Favre made a game of the up-until-then one-sided contest. We returned to our drinks and to the comfortably droning commentary of Al Michaels. But that wasn’t the night. The night belonged to Snuka and the other old men of the wrestling ring who stole the show one last time.

Filed under: wwe, raw, professional, wrestling, monday-night-football, television

There are no extremes too bizarre to brave for the addict in search of an allusive high. Some enterprising folks have discovered that the skin of a cane toad contains a drug-like substance (bufo toxin - a mild poison, really). Licking the skin of a cane toad or, better yet, flaying the poor amphibian, drying its skin, and then smoking it, produces the high. I bet their science teachers never thought those frog disections would ever be used for such nefarious purposes.

From News.com.au:

CHILDREN as young as 12 are licking cane toads in an attempt to get high, the Northern Territory News has learned.

Some children and teenagers in Katherine and Arnhem Land are even drying out the skins of cane toads and rolling them up as joints to get a hit.

That seems like a lot of work but the toads are free, just pluck them off the side of a pond or stream. How long until the entreprenuers take over, creating a house-industry of toad-flaying, pushing to extinction the local toad populations, and driving the price of toad-skins through the roof?

Ah well, enjoy this addict-utopia while it lasts… Has anyone tried licking a frog?

Filed under: science, drugs, toads, licking, toxin