Portugal. The Man is a shitty, shitty band name.

Last weekend was Lollapalooza here in Chicago and besides the overabundance of hipsters ironically wearing Sebastian Telfair jerseys, it sounded like a surprisingly good show. I say surprisingly because none of the headliners really intrigued me. Sure Eminem and Foo Fighters were probably great, but there wasn't any standouts.

To be fair, though, if I had been given a free ticket I would have loved to see some of the lesser known bands play during the day. One such band that I may have come across (though probably unlikely since I had never heard of them before this evening) could have been Portugal. The Man. And they might have sounded amazing. But man do they have a shitty band name.

The big news story (well, not "big big", but "300 word articles on the Huffington Post big") of the day, however, wasn't there performance at the annual Grant Park festival. No the story was that their van was stolen from a lot a few hundred yards from the concert grounds.

And that's really unfortunate. Apparently there were seven guitars, an electric piano, a few amps and other equipment that not only is needed for any immediate shows the band might be having, but also held sentimental value to the band members. I was never good enough at my cheap, used acoustic to ever hold sentimental value towards it, but I can dig it.

It's embarrassing for Chicago and I hope the thieves are found and prosecuted because they are total assholes. But Portugal. The Man are also assholes for putting that period in the middle of their band name. It's a very different kind of asshole, sure, but it was an asshole decision just the same. If they had named themselves Portugal the Man, it wouldn't be great, but it wouldn't be reaching for Sean Penn-levels of pretentiousness it currently is.

Now, having a shitty band name doesn't automatically preclude you from being musically talented. One of my favorite newer acts is Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., a name that makes me embarrassed whenever I recommend them anyone. Hell, is there anyone out there who thinks The Beatles is a good name for a band? Honestly?

But a shitty band name is a shitty band name so I made a snarky comment about it on Twitter because that's kind of what Twitter is for. Here's what I said:



Not exactly funny or insightful, but the main thing to point out is that it's not like I sent an @reply to the official Portugal. The Man Twitter account. I just made a dumbass comment.

Cue the response from somebody using their verified account:



Hmm. Okay. And I actually did feel somewhat bad because, again, it really sucks that someone would steal from anyone. And I made a comment where I said that I did feel bad. And they responded as such:



Look, I get it, being robbed sucks. But now you're just fishing for guilt-trips. Once again, I my first admittedly asshole comment wasn't sent directly to them in anyway. And when they respond in a somewhat pity-inducing way with their "yup" it was strange because that means they're just searching Twitter, looking for snarky comments about the band. But whatever, I felt bad so good for them. But then they tried to make me feel more guilty and I'm sorry, I'm just not going to.

All of that equipment is replaceable. Yeah, they might mean a lot on an emotional level, but it's not like Portugal. The Man is going to have to disband. They're signed to Atlantic Records. Now I know the music industry isn't exactly a runaway train of success these days, but I'm pretty Atlantic Records (owned by Warner Music Group) can scrounge together enough instruments to keep the band on the road.

And I know these guys aren't U2 or anything (who made like $300 million on their last tour despite being terrible since 1991), but if they just played at Lollapalooza and are signed to a pretty major label and are able to, you know, be rock stars for a living, I'm sure they are going to be okay.

I don't want to get into a whole "out-of-perspective" thing, but I fail to really see why anyone other than the specific members of the band, the authorities investigating, the label, or the assholes who actually stole the equipment should really care this band got robbed when actual real people who don't get to make music for a living get robbed every day.

It's an extremely unfortunate situation, but one that will ultimately probably work out okay. Portugal. The Man might be inconvenienced greatly by what happened, but they'll keep existing and keep playing music until they inevitably succumb to the King of Leon-level pressures of stardom and pretend like they didn't break up halfway through a tour in 2016.

But until then, we, the fans of indie rock still have to look at that damn period in the middle of their godforsaken band name. That period is the real tragedy.

*

The Secret Shame of My Youth

I am getting older. It was inevitable because the passage of time is just as inevitable. But as I get older, I look back on my youth with mostly good feelings and nostalgia. I had a great childhood overall, with caring parents, thoughtful friends, a strong education, and an overall enjoyable experience. I wasn't perfect. I made mistake, like any other kid. But I was generally a good, obedient, happy kid.

But, behind that membrane of normality rested something much, much darker. I am hiding something...terrible. Whenever a memory of that much more horrible place and time would begin to surface within me (often times as I lay awake in the middle of the night), I would push it down -- push it down as deep as it would go and hope that memory would never come back. But it always did. And now, that memory is coming back in great frequency and with much more force.

The continued recollection of this dark time in my past has reached the breaking point. It is now affecting my day-to-day ability to live my life as whenever I even close my eyes, I see what I did. I can no longer hide from who I truly am and what I did because, well, I can't let myself. Eventually, if I don't come clean, the darkness will overcome and I don't know what will happen then. I don't want to find out.

So I am going to reveal my deep dark secret and I'm going to reveal it to the world. Maybe something like this would be better disclosed to a therapist or someone with similar professional standing, but I don't deserve the benefit of discretion. My crimes are what they are, and I'm ready to face the consequences of my actions.

Before I reveal my secret, though, I must point out two facts about my childhood that are important to the overall context of what I will disclose. The first is something so innocent, that it makes what came soon after seem all the more horrible. That first fact is that, as a boy, I loved baseball. I still do. I live a mere three blocks away from Wrigley Field. I love the sound of the crack of the bat after a hard line drive and the smell of the grass on a hot July day such as this.

I played little league, sure, but I was never good enough to really make anything of myself. I had dreams of greatness, though, and even though I was well-aware I would never see them in a physical sense, I knew with technology I could always recreate them through the world of video games. So with my Nintendo 64 and my copy of "Ken Griffey Jr.'s Slugfest," I was able to live the life of a Major Leaguer without the actual talent needed to truly live said life. I was able to hit the home runs. I was able to win the World Series. It was foolish, sure, but it was nice, too. Real nice. Like baseball should be.

The second piece of context information that needs to be addressed relates to another part of our good All-American culture that could also be considered innocent: music. But the type of music I am referring to is anything but innocent. I am referring to the band, KoRn.

Now, I am far from proud of the fact that in the late 1990s, I enjoyed the music of the nu-metal quartet from Bakersfield, CA, but it isn't something that brings me the great shame that I feel. I blame my love of KoRn on the folly of youth. I am sure there are some musicians you yourself wish you could disassociate your fandom from. But, we all grow and out tastes change and those somewhat embarrassing preferences of our younger years are meant to be laughed at, nothing more. And if it wasn't for KoRn's connection to the overall story I am telling, I might laugh, too. Hell, sometimes I do laugh. It's all so horrible, sometimes that's all you can do.

I don't know why the heavy guitars and macabre lyrics of KoRn spoke to me. In fact, I don't know if it ever really did. The truth is, I had many friends who were into the band and I tend to think that was the catalyst that got me into them in the first place. But that's not to say I am free of blame and that I didn't enjoy their music. I did. I could listen back on tracks like "Freak on a Leash" now and struggle not to turn it off, but back then, it made me happy. If I could speak to my 14-year-old self now, I would ask him why, why listen to KoRn? But I don't know if I'd believe his response anyway.

So how does this all relate to the shame of my youth that I refer to in the title of this piece? Well, to jump back to "Ken Griffey Jr.'s Slugfest," there was a feature called "Create-a-Player." It allowed you to do just that, create a player. You could design how he looks, provide him with attributes affecting his power, speed,etc. And you could name him whatever you want.

I assume most kids would create themselves. Or maybe create a player that hadn't yet been on a major league roster at the time of the game's creation. Or who knows? Most kids would have just had fun with this feature. Most kids.

(And the saddest thing of this whole horrible event is that, I probably did have fun when I did what I did. And that's what makes me feel the most guilty. I probably had the time of my life.)

I created a player in "Slugfest" that I would guarantee nobody else in the world created. I created a player so astoundingly...off...that I expect nobody out there will look at me the same after reading about it shortly. And I won't blame them, because there are times when I can't even look at myself in the mirror. When you can't make eye contact with yourself, what else do you have?

But I've put this off long enough. The player I created was based on the bassist from KoRn, known as Fieldy.



Fieldy's real name is Reginald Arvizu, but I didn't know that at the time. All I knew was he was a short, stocky, dread-locked man with an affinity for headbands. And so I made him into a power-hitting first baseman on my "Slugfest" team. Since I didn't know his real name, I put his first name as "Fieldy" and his last name as "OfKorn."

And, Fieldy OfKorn was good. He was really good. You could easily compare him to a Prince Fielder type player today: patient enough to take his walks but with enough power to put the fear of God into opposing pitchers. Sure, he never had any speed, but Fieldy OfKorn was a rock in the middle of my lineup. And I used him over the course of an entire season. And with Fieldy, I won it all. I won the whole damned 'ship.

You don't get a physical trophy when you win a digital World Series; I don't even own that system or game any more, so I couldn't even see the pixelated representation of the trophy if I wanted to. All I have are the memories. And the knowledge that I won with a played based on the bassist for a nu-metal band.

Of course his statistical prowess brings me no solitude because he should never have existed in the first place. You probably ask, what possessed me to create such a monster? I have no answer. Even if I had one, it wouldn't be a feasible one.

I expect no pity from you. In fact, I'd be offended if you gave me any. I deserve no pity, only shameful, sideways glances. I can't imagine any of my friends will remain so after they read this and I will likely lose my job as well. If this revelation means that I'm now meant to drift the earth, barely scraping by to survive, then it is what I am meant to do. By keeping this secret so long, I only delayed the inevitable hardships that will soon follow.

If I can leave you with anything from this horrible tale other than the intense depression you must be going through after reading it, I ask you to think before you act. I didn't once when I was a child. And now I am nothing more than a shell of a human being.

But not unlike the bullet in the famous KoRn video, "Freak on a Leash," coming clean to you will not slow down my sadness. It continues on.

Unabated.

*

You think Jay Cutler quit on his team? I think you quit on the notion of not being an idiot.

As I'm writing this, it is being reported that Bears quarterback Jay Cutler likely tore his MCL in Chicago's loss to the Green Bay Packers in today's NFC Championship game and it's going to get the exact opposite reaction than the one it should. Here's what people are going to say: "Phew, that let's Cutler off the hook for not playing the second half of the game." But in actuality, the fact this his injury turned out to be serious is going to end up letting the idiots off the hook who immediately chastised Cutler as they saw him watching the game from the sidelines and called him a quitter. People like Maurice Jones-Drew and Darnell Dockett and the countless other morons who called Cutler soft are going to be forgiven because they'll get to apologize for "jumping to conclusions."

But the truth is, if you assumed for even a second that Cutler wasn't doing everything in his power to convince Bears management and the Bears medical staff to let him get back into the game, then you don't deserve to be let off the hook. When you look at what he's gone through this past season, you could easily make the argument that he's one of the toughest players in the NFL. You try playing behind that offensive line in Mike Martz's offense where five-step drops are commonplace. You try taking as many sacks and hits and knock-downs as Cutler did and still come out every game and just keep letting it happen over and over again. Hell, Cutler is probably too selfless to a fault. Back in Week 5, Cutler sustained a concussion against the onslaught of the New York Giants pass rush and still kept playing even though it was clearly affecting his judgment and decision-making. If anything, Cutler hurt his team because he cared too much about helping them.

Today's incident wasn't much different. Severals Bears players and coaches have come forward to defend Cutler and said he begged to be let back into the game after the first series of the second half proved that he wasn't physically able to plant his back foot securely enough to be effective. Even with his pretty poor pre-injury first half performance, it sure as hell wasn't going to get any better for a guy who basically was going to be forced to eliminate all lateral movement. (And for those who say that if he was able to put weight on the knee on the sideline, he should have been able to play in the game, well, that's just stupid. I've never torn a ligament, but I'm pretty sure it's a very different ball of wax playing an intensely fast-paced sport on an injured knee than it is standing motionless.)

The one argument a lot of people keep coming back to is to point out that Philip Rivers once played on a torn ACL, but those people seem to forget that Rivers was horrendous in that game, going 19 of 37 with no touchdowns and two picks. It was a dumb decision on the part of the Chargers coaching staff to let Rivers play and they deserved the outcome they received. You have to give Lovie Smith credit today: he chose to act in what he thought was the best interest of his team and not the best interest of the potential hit his actions might have on a player's reputation. (Now if you want to argue about some of Smith's other decision-making today, have at it.)

And that's really where all of this "media frenzy" about today's game starts: Cutler's reputation. He is hated by everyone. And I can understand why, even if I don't think the reason is very logical. He's not a very media-friendly player even though he plays at a position where most guys are. This leads to two major scenarios. First, you get reporters and columnists feeling slighted by Cutler's indifference and react by writing unfavorable articles and columns about him (see Rick Reilly's poorly-written and -researched recent expose on the man). Second, you get the average fan buying into these unwarranted criticisms and thus a bad reputation is born.

But if you're a real football fan and you care more about whether your quarterback is likable than if he's a good player, then guess what? You've been living a lie because you aren't a real football fan; you're a soap opera viewer.

You know why I like Jay Cutler? It's because if he's not the very best quarterback the Chicago Bears have ever had, he's undoubtedly in the top three. And for all of the Sid Luckmans and George Blandas of the world who were well before my time, Cutler is easily the best QB I've had the pleasure to watch play in my lifetime. And yet, the hatred for him runs through even some of the most die-hard Bears fans.

Is Jay Cutler perfect? No. Is he an elite, top-tier quarterback. Not at all. Is he very good, nonetheless? Absolutely. I don't really understand how a real Bears fan can dislike Cutler after living with specimen like Jonathan Quinn and Craig Krenzel and Kordell Stewart and Shane Matthews and Rick Mirer behind the center. Even the QBs who had shown moderate success like Jim Miller, Rex Grossman, and Kyle Orton all paled in comparison to the talent that Cutler displays every Sunday. I choose to value actual concrete, tangible skills and athleticism over opinion-based critiques like attitude and leadership. Sure, it wouldn't hurt if Cutler improved in those areas, but it would hurt if we returned to the Henry Burris "glory" days of no-talent signal-callers.

And, Jesus, even if you put all the stock in the world into those intangible elements like grit, heart, and go-getterness, it's pretty disgusting that a guy like Cutler is labeled a pariah for at worst being kind of a jerk when an alleged rapist like Ben Roethlisberger is heralded as a leader.

In general, though, it's fairly easy to ignore the flack Cutler receives for his less-than-genial demeanor because why should I hold stock in another fan's opinion of a player quality or attribute that I hold little stock in to begin with. But, even though I want to also ignore the vile attacks set upon Cutler after he was forced to leave today's game against his will, when I read through my Facebook and Twitter feeds I get angry all the same.

This Bears team that most had pegged as a .500 team at best just made it the NFC Championship game and one of the main reason that came to be was because Jay Cutler toughed out getting his body pulverized by defenses each and every week and still put up excellent numbers. I for one don't want to take for granted the effort and skills our quarterback puts forth for this team, and it saddens me to see so many other supposed Bears fans all to willing to do that.

Ron Santo (1940-2010)

Today we mourn Ron Santo and boy is it harder than I thought it would be. I've been fortunate enough to never see the death of a close family member during my 25 years on this planet, but losing Santo feels like the first. There's an inner cynic in me that wants to tell myself to stop overreacting. I never met Santo (though I was lucky enough to listen to him speak at the Cubs Convention a few years ago), so why should I be so affected by his passing? But I am, much more than I ever thought I would be.

Because let's face it, Ronnie has been fighting diabetes-related health issues his entire life. Lesser men wouldn't have survived the daily struggles of living with the disease or the two amputations that took his legs. Santo not only survived, but he lived with a vigor and grace that I can only dream of when I enter my later years. In this day and age, 70 is too young to die. But for a guy like Santo, it's an amazing accomplishment and a testament to his strength, both inside and out.

But the thought that he could leave us at any time was on the back of the minds of Cubs fans for the last few years now. Even this past season, the fact that Ron began to stay home on long road trips was somewhat ominous. It's a natural reaction to steel yourself to expect the worst in order to come out unscathed on the other side. I thought I was prepared for Santo's death. I was wrong.

Today I cried. I'm still crying now as I write this. A lot of them are happy tears, though, as I listen to friends and family and fans share their favorite stories about the man. I just heard Ronnie's amazing radio partner Pat Hughes recall a story on Comcast Sports Net in which Ron was attempting to work a yogurt machine and wasn't able to turn it off. As Pat put it, Ron responded like any mature seven-year-old would. He ran away. And what makes that story so great is that you can totally picture that whole slapstick scene in your head. In another life, Santo would have made a great silent film comedian, on par with Chaplin or Lloyd.

But, alas, most of these tears are sad ones. It is going to be a heart-wrenching moment to hear that first WGN radio broadcast without him. I don't know who is going to replace Ron yet -- it might be Dave Otto, it might be Keith Moreland, it might be someone completely new -- but they will have massive shoes to fill. Sure, Santo wasn't the best color man in terms of baseball analysis or even objective criticism, but he brought something unique to the booth. He was like all of us. He was a fan first. He was ecstatic when the Cubs did great and he was angry and depressed when the Cubs did bad (and unfortunately there was a lot more anger and depression than happiness over his years), but he was real. His broadcasting style was an extension of every Cubs fan. There's something to be said about a baseball announcer who cares more about baseball than announcing. More often than not, even with other former players like him who took on color commentating gigs after their playing careers had ended, it is the other way around.

Ron Santo was never elected to the Hall of Fame. He never got to play in or witness a Cubs World Series. He relentlessly battled diabetes to the point of leaving the game in his prime and losing both his legs to amputation. And yet, I'd be hard-pressed to find a Cubs fan out there who wouldn't trade lives with him in a second. If I have even half the dignity Ronnie had throughout his whole life, I'll have done alright.

I'm going to miss you, Ronnie. Say hi to Harry for us.


*

News about TV Reviews

I was recently approached on Twitter to contribute to the TV website TVGeekArmy.com. After taking some time to read through some posts and talk about it with site runner, Eric, I said yeppity yep. This however means that I won't be contributing TV reviews to this blog anymore.

Well, actually, that's not necessarily the case. If TVGA has a lot of coverage of a certain show that I still want to write about, I might still put something up here. However, I am not allowed to post the reviews on both sites (Internet Rule #47.1.A), so it's all basically one or the other.

There are several reasons why I wanted to contribute to TVGA:

1.) I like the look and feel of the site and its goals for the future.

2.) It likely gets a lot more traffic than my blog because my blog gets very, very little traffic. This helps my attention meter go beep beep beep.

3.) It's another bullet point to put on the ol' resume.

If you are interested in following my thoughts on the shows (which is neat of you), keep an eye on my Twitter feed because I'll be posting on there when my reviews get posted on the site.

Also, follow the TVGA twitter feed for similar reasons here: http://twitter.com/forwerdmedia

Peace, love, and happiness to all.

TV Review: Sons of Anarchy - "Oiled"

There are specific moments that make me wonder (or more accurately, doubt) if Sons of Anarchy ever has potential to be a great show. Tonight this came in the form of an otherwise throwaway scene where Clay, Opie, Happy and some other folks were meeting with a Black M.C. to piece together why the Mayans are patching another club over. There came a point where it wasn't just Clay talking to the head of the other club, but Opie and Happy doing it too. They were just dropping details about the information they needed, but why would these low-ranking guys even be speaking during a meeting like this? And moments like this happen very often on the show. I wonder if the writers get too anxious if all the characters don't have something to do every scene and this is just their defense mechanism or something, but it just ends up looking like lazy, unrealistic writing.

Speaking of Opie, I just realized the other day that the actor that plays him (Ryan Hurst) is the same guy who played Gary Bertier in Remember the Titans. It wasn't like he was a revelation in that movie or anything, but he sure didn't take any acting classes since then. In the grand scheme of things, I think it's fair to say that his fellow Titan linebacker, Wood Harris, has a better post-Denzel television career by starring on The Wire. Granted I don't think I've seen either of them in anything else other than these three pieces of entertainment, but the nod clearly has to go to Avon Barksdale.

And, of course, to segue from football to The Wire back to football, I've been catching up on Friday Night Lights over the last few weeks and was pretty excited to see the actor who played Wallace in Season 1 of The Wire show up in the most recent season of FNL. See, D'Angelo, there was no need to get so pissed at Stringer. He just sent Wallace to Dillon, Texas.

But if there's any Dillon resident who most needs to crossover onto Sons of Anarchy, it's Matt Saracen's grandmother. Now wouldn't she make a cute, albeit demented romantic counterpart to Hal Holbrook's character? It's a match made in Alzheimer's heaven.

If you're wondering why I'm rambling on about pretty much nothing, it's because pretty much nothing happened in tonight's episode, "Oiled." It was a severely boring hour of television, plain and simple. Sure, Jax is on his way towards a fruitless search of majestic British Columbia for Abel and we learn about the Mayan's building their army so to speak, but other than that, can you tell me tell me anything else that happened that progressed the plot in an honestly meaningful way? No there was just a lot of shit like Bobby being late on alimony and Tara taking a leave of absence and Tig needing lube. I'm all for slow burn, but this felt like the fuse had gone out. And we're only in episode two. Not a good sign, especially considering most of the first episode was dull as well.


OVERALL GRADE: D

*

TV Review: Terriers - "Pilot"

The new FX series Terriers has many things going for it, but it's strongest aspect might simply be how much fun it is. The rapport between stars Donal Logue (always underrated)and Michael Raymond-James (one of my favorite performances from True Blood, even if his Cajun accent wasn't always 100% consistent) doesn't break any new ground in the buddy-cop genre, but it was making me grin pretty effortlessly throughout the hour. Logue especially does a great job in sketching out who his character is: a loser who is probably too clever to be one, but living with past mistakes and doing the best he can with it.

In the premiere, we are introduced to what would seem to be a normal day in the life of these unlicensed private investigators. They steal a dog back from canine thief and return it to the rightful owner (yes, basically the opening scene of Ace Ventura) and all they get for payment is free dry-cleaning. And though this dry-cleaning eventually leads to dinner at a fancy restaurant, you kind of get the picture that the "Gomez Bros Pool Service" team isn't living the high life off its P.I. earnings.

But of course a big case falls into their lap involving a rich real estate developer, a sextape, a couple of murders, and "Close to You" by the Carpenters. The end result has Logue and Raymond-James' Hank and Britt framing the developer (played by Christopher Cousins of Breaking Bad fame) because of his connection to the murder of Hank's friend. While the final scene where Britt warns Hank that messing with the developer will likely come back to haunt them reminded me of The Simpsons episode where Chief Wiggum moves to New Orleans and is looking forward to facing off with Big Daddy "each and every week," (this is already a way-too-long sentence, but you stuck around this long so you might as well stick around 'til the end) I like the idea that there will be this serialized aspect to go along with the "Case-of-the-Week" subplots. I don't know if Cousins is a good enough actor to pull off menacing (he always kind of underwhelmed me on Breaking Bad), I think having that long-term antagonist is good for a show like this.

But that's not to say I don't think the "Case-of-the-Week" plotlines won't work. I look forward to all the mischief these goofinators are going to get themselves into as much as the serious stuff. If the writing stays as sharp and the chemistry stays and natural, Terriers could (oh yeah, I'm going to go there) have some bite.


Lingering Thoughts

- Fun supporting characters? We got 'em. There's the hard-nosed cop, the sassy lawyer, the cute and charming girlfriend, and the still-pined-over ex-wife. All in one place!

- The one line that really sums of Hank best: "There are only so many places you go, Hank."


OVERALL GRADE: A-

*

TV Review: Sons of Anarchy - "So"

Let's be clear about something before I delve into a season of Sons of Anarchy recaps: I don't think it's a particularly great show. It's a good show. It has moments and even whole episodes of greatness, but its first two seasons were plagued with two many issues to put it among the best shows on television right now.

I think a lot of it has to do with the writing and directing because the acting on the show is top-notch. Ron Perlman and Katey Sagal and Mark Boone Junior and even a much, much improved Charlie Hunnam carry their characters with ease, which shouldn't be considering that some of the dialogue they have to read errs on the side of ridiculous. Of course not every actor is great. Maggie Siff is rigid at best and Ryan Hurst is downright awful (his go-to acting method is to wear a knit cap and stare broodingly), but acting isn't the show's problem.

There are moments over the past six months during which I spent time catching up on Sons that I found myself really wondering why people praise it so much. I read a review or a message board comment or something a while back that compared it to The A-Team with higher production values. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. In fact I think it's a favorable comparison. It is at its best when it doesn't take itself so seriously, but those moments are too few and far between. And ending season two and starting off season three with the kidnapping of a baby doesn't exactly help in that matter. But I'm going to try and keep an open mind and hope that the pulpier elements come to the forefront.

And for about 55 minutes, I didn't think that was going to be the case. Outside of a few minor progressions (like some brief investigation into where Cameron might be and the introduction of the awesome Hal Holbrook as Gemma's dementia-ridden father), nothing happened that couldn't have been accomplished with one brief scene of dialogue. Everything was about Jax feeling emotionally crippled, Gemma feeling helpless on the lam, Clay feeling the need to console but push Jax into action. The expression of feelings like this are all well and good in brief doses on a show like this, but to fill a majority of the episode with it is almost too much to handle.

But maybe that was all the point. Give us an episode where the first 55 minutes dull us into not really caring and then slamming us with a final scene that forces us snap out of your (sorry, I'm going to be blunt here) sleepy boredom. The final scene of the drive-by at Half-Sack's funeral might have been shock value for the sake of shock value, but it was effective and almost made up for the lesser elements that came before it.

And so where are we left following the shootout? Well for starters, Hale is dead which I didn't see coming. I've always liked him as a character with him being torn between his hatred of what SAMCRO represents, but the occasional realization that their existence can also be for the greater good of Charming. I don't know how the lack of this moral center will effect the show going forward, or if it's even gone at all. I can see a character like Piney continue his rebellion against the changes that have occurred with the club since John Teller's death, even if Jax is too focused on getting Abel back to want that on his plate.

Also, Opie's girlfriend's son was shot which is pretty brutal and almost glossed over too much, in my opinion. When a kid gets shot, even if it's the rarely seen son of a minor character, there needs to be more shock about it. Still, this obviously opens up the Opie storyline for the season in some way, shape, or form.

Jax breaks out of his funk and slams the head of one of the shooters into the pavement multiple times, which for some reason the cops in the vicinity just let him do. From the previews, this doesn't look like it will be the only violent outburst we see from Jax this season as he starts the long, drawn-out search for his missing son.

Speaking of the little Turnip Head, Abel is alive (Good news!), but across the pond in Belfast with Cameron (Bad news!). If this leads to a SAMCRO Overseas Adventure, I'm all for it because that'd be a fun little turn of events. And that's what this show needs more of. If we get too many episodes like the first 55 minutes of the premiere, it's going to be hard to stick with it.


Lingering Thoughts

- Who's the Latina caretaker living with Holbrook? I know I've seen her in other stuff and can't place it.

- Gemma mentions that her father is a reverend. I hope everyone's ready for scenes revolving around Christian guilt!

- Dayton Callie was promoted to series regular. Good for him, he's always strong as Unser.

- There was something about new members joining the Charming Chapter that I didn't quite catch. New blood could be good or could be bad for the show. I've seen it go both ways on other shows.

- I miss Half-Sack.


OVERALL GRADE: B-

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Vote Michael Proper for Chicago Mayor in 2011

Moments ago, Mayor Richard M. Daley announced he would not be running for re-election in Chicago in 2011. As a proud supporter of Daley, I am sad to see the man move on, but I respect his decision. However, this new development has opened the door for a new era of government in the City of Chicago and I would like to formally announce my candidacy for the mayoral race in 2011.

I will be getting to the multiple levels of my platform momentarily, but first let me tell you a little about myself. I am a 24-year-old graduate of DePaul University with a Bachelors Degree in Communication (the most prestigious degree you can get from the alma mater of the great Mayor Daley himself) and a job selling perfume and cologne at Macy's. I currently live in the Chicago suburb of Tinley Park, but it would only take some brief "creative bookkeeping" to change my residency to a Chicago address. I am single, but always looking out for a future first lady (good hygiene is very important, ladies).

I love the City of Chicago and all its residents (minus 7 or 8 exceptions) and look forward to maintaining and expanding our reputation as a world-class metropolis.

Now that you know about me on a personal level, please allow me to enlighten you about how I will improve the lives of Chicagoans while serving as mayor. My agenda features eight individual plans that will not only continue ideals that make Chicago so great, but also taking it to the next level: Level 2.

These plans are as follows:


1.) All gay Chicagoans must get married.

Oh yeah. I started out with a big one. To be honest, while I support gay marriage, I don't think it should be a political issue. However, my campaign is going to need a big, attention-grabbing platform that will assuredly get my name in the papers.

Some gay people might be single or might be in relationships but don't want to be married. Too bad. You're getting married. Every gay person will have six weeks (starting from my first day in office) to find/settle on a significant other to marry.

If we have an odd number, the last man or woman standing will have to move to Joliet. Poor bastard.

To make the actual marriage ceremonies run smoothly, Mobile Marriage Vans will be patrolling the streets of Lakeview and Andersonville, always ready to help mold the happy bonds of matrimony.

As a bonus to make this scenario run smoothly, once the couples are married, they will be awarded a $20 gift certificate to Applebee's. So, win-win.


2.) Food carts are not only legal, they are mandatory.

There has been talk lately of allowing food carts in the city much like those you can find in New York. Well, I'm not only allowing it, I'm demanding it.

Every Chicago resident must own a food cart where they prepare their best dish, be it Creme Brulee or Easy Mac. Then once a year, each person will be among a group of Chicagoans to present their food to me at City Hall where I will feast on whatever meal looks most appetizing on my lunch break (only 45 minutes...I work for you, people).

If any resident wants to own and manage a food cart beyond this Annual Mayoral Offering, they are more than welcome to apply for a business license ($200) and permit ($75).


3.) All handguns are replaced with squirt guns.

Gang violence is a major issue in Chicago and one that has to be dealt with immediately. I propose that a taskforce be created to comb the entire city limits and find every handgun in every residence or in the possession of every citizen. Then, each of these people will be compensated with a Super Soaker Soaker-Wars Hyrdo Furry (2-Pack).

This will work on several different levels. First, it will appease defenders of the Second Amendment because every resident will have the right to bear arms. Just not ones that fire bullets. Secondly, I think once the gang leaders start to realize how much fun it is to shoot water at each other, they'll think about the preciousness of life and give up their criminal ways.

Now of course, there could always be a few rapscallions who put Tabasco sauce in their squirt guns in order to commit crimes, but to those potential wrong-doers I say this: "Don't be lame."


4.) We're holding the 2016 Olympics anyway!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, the International Olympic Committee may have chosen Rio De Janeiro to host the Olympic Games in 2016, but they can't stop us from building all of the necessary stadiums, housing, and other infrastructure that was included in our previous plan and budget. And then when people realize how much cooler our Olympic Village will be compared to Rio's, I bet the athletes will want to come here anyway.

Plus, did you know that in South America, the summertime is actually their wintertime? They are holding a Summer Olympics in the winter? Is this a joke? I can't imagine American swimmer Michael Phelps or Russian basketball player Andrei Kirilenko will stand for that. It is only a matter of time before they realize that Chicago is a better choice for them.


5.) We'll treat the Asian Carp with respect and hopefully they'll treat us with respect.

Look, other Midwestern states, I know you are all pissed off that we are letting a bunch of Asian Carp into Lake Michigan and it's going to ruin everyone's fishing industry, but you all need to chill out a bit. We're not saying we're huge fans of the Asian Carp ourselves, but that doesn't mean we have to be so rude to them, now does it?

If we let them know that they are welcome to our lake, I have to think that they'll look up at us with their beady fish eyes and think, "Hmm, it's nice to have the respect of a greater species such as you humans. Maybe we shouldn't destroy this habitat with reckless abandon. Maybe we should be friends."

If I can get the Carp to respect us, I need you other states to respect me. Reciprocity is the name of the game.


6.) Jim Belushi is banned for life.

Many people give Jim Belushi credit for being such a die-hard Chicago sports fan and overall city defender. Well I don't. Belushi sucks at everything he does. According to Jim was on the air for 182 episodes and that's 200 episodes too many. You may love Chicago, Mr. Belushi, but you won't be doing it in the city limits anymore.

But seriously, The Defenders looks pretty good.



Teaming up with Jerry O'Connell is a one-way ticket to Hollywood immortality.


7.) No more kickbacks, slush funds, or other "Chicago Outfit"-style politics

Honesty and integrity are my number one priority as Mayor. I represent every single citizen and believe that it is my duty to act in the highest honor that holding such a position entails.

That being said, if you would like to donate to my campaign fund, please feel free to contact Vinny DiAugustina at DiAugustina Bail Bonds at 2200 S. Wabash. He will send over several men to pick up your donation, so you won't even need to worry about the postage. (Cash only, please.)


8.) Prostitution will remain illegal.

Sorry, but I just can't change this law despite much outcry from smelly, overweight losers who can't get girlfriends. My morals just don't bend like that, fellas.


And there you have it. Eight campaign promises that will not only make the city as a whole better, but it will make each and every one of your individual lives better.

This campaign won't be an easy one to win. I will need all of the support I can get from great Chicagoans and friends such as you, dear reader. But I think we all know that as great of a job Daley has done during his tenure, things can still be improved. I hope you realize that my voice, my vision, and my heart is what is needed to make those improvements work.

So please, go forth, spread the word about why you think I am the key to a better future here in the City of Big Shoulders. Without word of mouth, my campaign will falter. This elections isn't just something I must win, it is something WE must win.

God bless you. God bless America. And God bless the great City of Chicago, Illinois!

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TV Review: Rubicon - "The Truth Will Out"

I attended two weddings this weekend and am quite exhausted, so I'm going to take the lazy route and just briefly recap the episode with bullet points.

- The FBI busts into API because they believe there is a leak. Spoiler alert: it turns out to be some finance nerd who was using SEC information to get rich. But the point wasn't so much about us learning about the leak, it was about learning what secrets the characters wanted to keep from the polygraphers.

- Grant was supposed to leave work early to see his daughters play, but wouldn't you know the FBI has other ideas. In his polygraph, he gets marked with a lie for saying he never cheated on his wife. He claims that the machine is wrong (is it?), but the technician believes it only means he has plans to cheat on her in the future.

- Miles is something of a leak himself because he accidentally took a classified file home and left it in a cab. But this is minor in the FBI's eyes and his punishment will be minimal.

- Kale is a badass.

- Will sees an Atlas paperweight on Spangler's desk and while Spangler is getting his polygraph, Will snoops around the office and finds a file with pictures of him and David at a baseball game. He also finds an audio CD which he steals and plays at home and it may or may not be a recording of David's final living moments.

- Will also finds a bug in the stone owl on his desk, but it is removed by some during the FBI investigation. But once they are gone, the bug returns. Interesting.

- Miles, Grant, and Tanya figure out that the third person in the Yuri-Beck picture is the woman at Beck's son's wedding from last week.


Good, strong, claustrophobic episode that advanced the overall storyline well, but worked great in the stand-alone sense too.


OVERALL GRADE: B+

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TV Review: Jersey Shore - "Not So Shore"

Screw you, MTV. Don't cut off the fight.

OVERALL GRADE: D (It doesn't get an F because I love the title of the episode.)

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TV Review: Rubicon - "Look to the Ant"

This is quite late because I watched the Emmys last night instead of Rubicon, but I'm sure AMC wont mind because they had a pretty good night as it was with Mad Men winning Best Drama Series again and Breaking Bad taking home acting awards for Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul. It would be somewhat hard to imagine Rubicon earning the same critical acclaim at next year's awards, but I don't think it's unfair to say that its not too far behind those two shows in terms of excellence. At least in my opinion.

"Look to the Ant" revolved around the various adventures of several characters over the course of a night. One wasn't terribly interesting, but others had me vastly entertained.

The not-so-interesting one involved Miles flirting with a fellow (nerdy) API employee who he recruits to translate his audio broadcast of George Beck's son's wedding. Outside of some vague discussions about a "foundation" for which one of the female guests had apparently accepted money, the main crux of these scenes seemed to be to set up Miles with this woman in the future. To be perfectly honest, I had forgotten all about his marriage problems until these scenes, and I think there's a reason why. Character depth is one thing, but I just don't have it in me to care all that much about Miles' personal life.

But as I say this, I found myself much more interested in Maggie's booty call plotline, and no not just because I'm a pervert. (I'm not saying that I'm not, I'm just saying that's not why.) Part of this is that Maggie is made to be like more of an important character than she has shown to be. More insight into her lifestyle is almost a necessity at this point.

Yet in spite of all this, we didn't get much about her connection to Kale, but nonetheless I liked it. Jessica Collins pulled off being condescendingly desperate with her Scrabble-playing classmate pretty perfectly. She's been earmarked as Will's future love interest and her kicking out Scrabble-Boy immediately after Will shows up unannounced makes for a nice segue to that going forward.

Speaking of great segues, here's where I talk about the best storyline: Will's himself. When Kale invited him over to dinner, he was (probably brightly) unsure of himself, but it led to a surprising new ally. Kale wants to help Will on his quest for answers, but he can't directly. Instead, he'll occasionally nudge him in the right direction.

He starts by giving him the name, Edward Roy (aka Senator Clay Davis) who runs a security company owned by a man connected to Tom Rhumor. But with this new allegiance comes a realization to Will that he is being surveyed at all times. And sure enough, his apartment is filled with bugs. But after a tense trip to an internet cafe that culminates with him pulling a gun on another man that is following him, he reports back to Kale about all of Edward Roy's shadiness.

Of course, we don't know how much we can trust Kale. Hell, I wouldn't even be remotely shocked if he was the one who planted all of the bugs in Will's house. But I still have a gut feeling that he wants to find out a lot of the same information Will is looking for, if only for his own agenda. Remember, he watched the meeting between Bloom, Spangler, and Roy pretty coldly last week.

I feel like I always get to Katherine's storylines last, but she met with the widow of the college professor friend of her husband's that she learned about last week. It's hard to gauge what we ascertained from these scenes, but four-leafed clover makes another appearance, reminding us again that our ultimate goal is to find out what that fourth leaf represents.


Lingering Thoughts

- Am I the only one who was reminded of Talbot from True Blood when we met Kale's significant other?

- Yeah, that's really all the lingering thoughts I had. Oh well.


OVERALL GRADE: B+

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2010 Emmys: Snap Judgments

First, let me pat myself on the back for getting six of my ten predictions right. I'll take that any day.

Second, hooray for Aaron Paul and Bryan Cranston. While I'm disappointed that Breaking Bad couldn't unseat Mad Men as the Best Drama Series (not to take anything away from MM, but BB was simply better this past season), but seeing Cranston win for a third year in a row and Paul winning for the first time was gratifying enough.

I'm also very happy to see Modern Family take the Best Comedy Series over Glee. Glee is a downright terrible show. I tried to watch it with an open mind. But it's as cheesy as it gets, and not in a good way.

Modern Family on the other hand was consistently top-notch all season. I would have liked to see Ty Burrell have won Best Supporting Actor in a Comedy over his co-star Eric Stonestreet, but I'm not too disappointed because Stonestreet was hilarious too.

Still, the one thing about the comedy awards that bugs me is that while Family was the most deserving recipient, the category was missing four shows that needed to get more credit than they did: Community, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Party Down, and Parks and Recreation (which had the best season of comedy of any show on TV last year).

Oh well, though. There wasn't anything that happened that made me wet my pants in anger. Even Jimmy Fallon was a strong host (and the John Hodgman-facts were fun again). Sure, the Best Movie/Mini-Series awards dragged everything down a bit in the middle, but the overall production made for an entertaining night.

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Super Fast 2010 Emmy Predictions and Wishlist

Best Drama Prediction: Mad Men

My Pick: Breaking Bad (Duh)



Best Comedy Prediction: Modern Family

My Pick: Modern Family



Best Actor, Drama Prediction: Bryan Cranston

My Pick: Bryan Cranston



Best Actress, Drama Prediction: Julianna Margulies

My Pick: January Jones



Best Actor, Comedy Prediction: Larry David

My Pick: Larry David



Best Actress, Comedy Prediction: Edie Falco

My Pick: Amy Poehler



Best Supporting Actor, Drama Prediction: Terry O'Quinn

My Pick: Aaron Paul



Best Supporting Actress, Drama Prediction: Christina Hendricks

My Pick: Christina Hendricks



Best Supporting Actor, Comedy Prediction: Eric Stonestreet

My Pick: Ty Burrell



Best Supporting Actress, Comedy Prediction: Jane Lynch

My Pick: Sofia Vergara



Let's see how I do.

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TV Review: Jersey Shore - "The Letter"

Tonight I felt a feeling that I have never felt before. I actually didn't even think it was possible to feel it. And yet, something changed in me and it makes me wonder what I'm becoming in my old age. Will I still be able to look at myself in the mirror every morning? Will I still be able to show my face to my friends and family? How could I break down and feel the thing that I felt?

How could I feel sorry for a grenade?

I can't come up with a reasonable answer, but it was a feeling that washed over me nonetheless. When The Situation, Pauly D, and Vinny were striving to seal the deal with three D.T.F. ladies, a fourth girl (who represented the epitome of grenadedom) also arrived as the dreaded tag-along.

Luckily, she seemed to realize the low-quality nature of her existence and accepted the responsibility of sleeping alone and not bothering the three attractive couple engaged in various forms of intercourse.

But, she had to feel pretty down about her predicament and I almost wished she wasn't involved with the circumstances to begin with. She clearly knew she was a grenade and I can only imagine the loathing a self-aware grenade must feel for herself.

Now, let me be clear: this doesn't mean I think that The Situation, Pauly D, or Vinny should have put some moves on her or even talk to her. A grenade is still a grenade. But, I still couldn't help myself when I wished her a better life.

I wonder, though, would grenades be better off if they were put into some sort of camp -- away from normal girls? I think the logistics of this would be too astronomical for me to comprehend (for instance, what about landmines?), but the possibility of a secluded area where grenades could feel free to live their lives and not bother any guy, ever just seems right to me.

I know I'm getting off-track, but brand new feelings tend to do that to me.

Speaking of feelings, Sammi had hers hurt after she found the anonymous letter written by JWoww and Snooki.

(Sidebar: I hate to say anything bad about someone as morally upstanding as Ronnie, but I think he was kind of out-of-line when he mocked Snooki's vocabulary. Sure, she might not know the word "wisely", but didn't he hear her use "sympathetic?" Does this mean nothing to him?)

The aftermath of the letter's discovery was enthralling. Deep down, I think everyone knew JWoww and Snookers wrote it, but everyone's ability to hide this knowledge was spectacular. I know this is a reality show and in no way scripted, but sometimes I wonder why these people don't win acting awards anyway. Every move they make is so damn believable. I watched JWoww type out and hide the letter and I'm still not even sure it was her because she covered it up perfectly.

Sammi is on the hunt for the author, but I can't imagine she ever finds out.

It seems now that despite everything I predicted, the picture perfect relationship of Sammi and Ronnie is over for good. I thought they might still have another chance, but then Ronnie called his Hometown Honey and I knew the end had arrived. If there's one thing this relationship has taught us, it's that when Sam and Ron break up, they stay broken up.

Now look, I'm a sucker for true love like anyone else, but I wonder if this wont end up being in the best interests of Ronnie and Ms. Sweetheart. Sure, together they could have ruled the world like Anthony and Cleopatra, but now they get to be charitable and take on a lesser mate, making that person look noble in comparison to their former self. Somewhere out there in the world, there is a man and a woman who have a chance to try and live up to the lofty expectations that Ronnie and Sammi held for each other. This contest makes the lottery seem pathetic in contrast.

Heartbreak wasn't exclusive to Ronnie and Sam, however. Snooki broke up with Emilio (after generously giving him a second chance first, of course) which led to The Fateful Burning of Emilo's Picture from Sushi Samba in the City when Snooki Paid and Everything.

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The Fateful Burning of Emilo's Picture from Sushi Samba in the City when Snooki Paid and Everything.

We didn't really get to know Emilio too well. Sure, from Snooki's description of him in the first episode as a "juiced-up gorilla," we can probably assume he's a great guy. But then had to go and make homophobic remarks and that's just something an accepting person like Snooki can't tolerate.

Look, Emilio, I understand your need to hate gay people. I'm sure the fact that some dudes like other dudes has made your life a constant, never-ending hell. I get that. But I don't need to see your homophobia. Whatever horrible, ignorant things you want to say in the privacy of your own home, that's fine. But keep it out of public so my children and my children's children don't have to witness it.

Anyway, Snooki did the right thing and burned anything that reminded her of Emilio. And now that we found out that once Emilio actually allowed a woman to pay for a meal, I come to doubt my ever trusting him as a great man in the first place. Snooki will be far better of without him.

(Does that mean she'll be far better off with me? Only time will tell.)

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As two women were moving on from their troubled relationships, Angelina couldn't move on from her awfulness. All The Situation wanted to do was have her do the dishes so he could make a nice, family meal. But instead she chose to spend her day yapping on the phone.

I wonder if she was even talking to anyone on the other end? It was edited to make it seem like she was, but I can't imagine anyone would actually want to talk to her about anything -- including her own family. I wouldn't put it past that ruffian to create a one-sided conversation in order to make herself seem more popular than she is. In fact, I have no doubt that this is the case.

You heard it here first and it's 100% official: Angelina only has one-sided phone conversations with herself!

But you can't let one bad egg make you assume that the whole carton is tainted*. And luckily for us, the seven cast members who aren't named Angelina continue to shine like beacons of hope.

*Author's Note: This egg metaphor is only that: a metaphor. In light of the recent recalls, one should be very careful about their egg consumption. If you even have an iota of a doubt about the cleanliness of your egg purchase, the safe bet is to just throw them away. Salmonella may sound like an illness that can be easily overcome, but over 30 American die every year from it.

Remember the Proper Lounge Egg Motto: Safe Eggs are Egg-cellent...and Delicious (*wink*)

(Add the wink only if you are speaking the motto out-loud.)


OVERALL GRADE: A+


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