Pekar on Lopate

American Splendor's Harvey Pekar was interviewed on Leonard Lopate's WNYC radio show on April 26.

More info and audio stream here.

News to me:

American Splendor is now being published by DC Comics.

I can dream, can't I?

MSNBC announced today that it is adding a new talk show to its lineup for this summer, set to follow its acclaimed Countdown with Keith Olbermann on the schedule.

A contemporary update of Studs Terkel's groundbreaking series, Studs' Place, taping has been completed for the show's first episode, featuring special guest, Stronger Than Phil Seymour Dirt Hoffman-Moss.

This Week in Anger Management-Ball

Minor Leaguer Delmon Young Throws Bat at Vampire.


Delmon Van Helsing in 2003. Apparently he's a Scorpio.

Durham Bulls outfielder Delmon Young threw a bat into the chest of a vampire after being called out on strikes in the first inning Wednesday night in Pawtucket, Transylvania.

Young took a third strike on a 1-and-2 pitch. When Young delayed leaving the batter's box, the vampire tried to bite him. Young then flipped his bat underhand. It sailed end over end and hit the vampire in the chest.

But isn't that redundant? Aren't vampires already bats?

CORRECTION: Oops, I misread the story yet again. Not vampire -- umpire.

Well, that's very different. Shame on you, young man! Igor, suspend that Devil Rays prospect! In the la-bor-atory!

BONUS MATERIAL: Buffy the Umpire Slayer

Clearer Than Dirt

Brandon Tom Cruz Cruise say: "Hah!! You look like that guy, Stronger Than Dirt Pete Moss! His blog is teh funnay!"

She Tube, He Tube, We All Tube For You Tube

Ladies and ladies, we are pleased to present, THE Karaoke Fun Time Band

http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=skftb

I'm the -er.

I hate the Extraneous Alphabet Item In Chief as much as anybody, or more, but I think we have to hand it to him for the whole "I'm the decider" thing.

We'll all probably be saying "I'm the [blank]-er" for the rest of our miserable lives.

I'm the sayer ... of ... that dumb statement.

Mark my stupid words. In 2026, you're going to say a "I'm the [verb]-er" to some kid, and he won't get it, and you're going to say, "Sheesh, these kids."

Then shortly afterward you will die a timely death.

Needs Improvement

I was always a good student. I was a fucking grind, in fact. But in elementary school, on every report card, there was always a consistent black mark against me, an area that Needs Improvement.

It would say something like, "Stronger Than Dirt Pete Moss is a good student, but he often finishes his work early and bothers the other students by wanting to socialize and talk too much."

Unfortunately, that improvement never took place.

Mea culpa, you fascist bastards!

Hey, how about that Jim Thome? Isn't work boring?

Legitimate This, or, Strict Textualism Does Not Mean You Can Torture the Words

There is a debate raging in the courts and in the pages of newspapers across America over the issue of whether writers for web-based publications deserve to be treated as "legitimate" or "traditional" journalists. Many newspaper editorialists -- as well as plaintiff Apple Computers ("suppress free speech different®") -- say no.

A big problem with that argument is, the First Amendment doesn't say anything about legitimacy or tradition.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

I don't see any clause in there saying "only if established news media companies approve of the speaker."

The Apple case is complicated and involves state trade secrets law, but the apparent belief held by some that the case turns on a distinction between "legitimate" and "illegitimate" journalism is, to understate the situation, disturbing.

"Free speech" in the United States has never been as strong or as real as our elementary school social studies books suggested (propagandized) that it was, but it's taken an extra beating in the last few years. "Free speech zones" for protestors, for example. A "legitimacy" test for journalists would gut it even further.

As your colicky attorney, I advise you to make some noise about this, before it's illegal.

For more on the Apple case, click here.

POSTSCRIPT: And if we have to apply a legitimacy test, I would suggest that newspapers that insist on publishing comic strips like "Hi and Lois" and "Blondie" for decade upon painfully unfunny decade (I'm lookin' at you, Chicago Tribune) cannot be considered "legitmate" under any sane definition of the term.

Boo-Boos on First

Although the CBRAT blog skews White Soxward in its focus, I'm generally nonpartisan when it comes to Chicago baseball. Which is Not Allowed, I know.

Setting that whole controversy aside for the moment, something happened to superstar first baseman Derrek Lee in the Cubs game last night that was a real drag:

The defending National League batting champ was injured late Wednesday in a freakish collision at first base with a Dodge.

Lee has a fracture of the distal radial and the distal ulna bone in his hand. He will wear an immobilizing cast that will go past his elbow. Team officials won't speculate on how long Lee will be sidelined, but he could be out two to three months.

The Dodge was apparently unhurt and fled the scene.

Unconfirmed police reports state between the lines that the Dodge was being driven by Super Karaoke Fun Time Band axman Keith Hartel's guitar, which went missing at a recent gig in New Jersey.

Cell phone records and VISA receipts suggest that in the past week the strung out guitar has embarked on a crazed breakneck cross-country satan spree, bingeing on strip clubs, roadside taco joints, and Budweiser warehouses.

Since injuring the Cubs batterer in Chavez Ravine, the guitar was next sighted by eyewitnesses at a donkey show in Tijuana.

Cubs General Manager Jim Hendry would appreciate any and all reports of current whereabouts of the renegade Telecaster. Not to mention Keith.

In the meantime, filling in at the uhh corner that is on the opposite side of the field to the hot corner will be good old number 93 going on 94, Studs Terkel.

Major Cultural Event

No, this is not a photo of Des from the year 2020, still recording fake radio shows with a rudimentary script. This is a still photo from a (distributorless, apparently) film that recently screened at the SXSW Film Festival -- The Life of Reilly. Featuring the incomparable Charles Nelson Reilly.

Go, Go-Go White Sox -- Just do it safely and presentably

Williams fines Buehrle for sliding on the tarp during a rain delay?

Reinsdorf orders A.J. and Crede to get haircuts?

Is this is the Chicago White Sox or the goddamn 1978 Dallas Cowboys? Yeah, that Roger Staubach was a clean-cut Christian of a freakishly boring man. Although Tom Landry had him beat on both counts -- even less hair, even more dully pious. I guess they'll be told not to slide anymore when they're wearing the white uniforms, because the dirt just doesn't look nice.

OK, the tarp thing makes sense. Guy could hurt himself. But the hair? Well ... I guess they could trip, or something. Or with those golden locks, they could accidentally get picked up by some drunken and/or nearsighted squids from Great Lakes, and then we'd have a National Security problem on our hands.

So I suppose I see the logic.

UPDATE: No fine for the Mark Buehrle tarp-sliding incident after all. He got off with a warning. Which is in itself pretty remarkable. I mean, I've gotten kind of turned on a little from a stern rebuke now and again, but ...

WBEZ to Dump Music Programming

The Tribune reports that pompous and irritating Chicago public radio station WBEZ (no link cuz I hate them ... and no link to the Trib because I don't feel like it) is dropping music programming and going all-talk.

That means no more Blues Before Sunrise. And no more Jazz with Dick Buckley. No more Afropop, no more Passport, no more Piano Jazz. In other words, no more of the only programming I could stand. My crabby dislike of CPR talk aside, the music programming on BEZ is ... or was ... high-quality content, and not easily found elsewhere. Blues Before Sunrise is one of the best radio shows of all time. And Dick Buckley belongs in any broadcasting hall of fame.

Instead we can count on more insufferable, chirpy, smug, dull, faux-librul, suburban yuppie bullshit blather. And nothing else. Great.

Wait Wait I'm Going to Puke.

They are reportedly keeping Greg Kot and Jim Derogatory's rock-oriented talk show ... which is just the shitty icing on a turdy cake. In any reasonable market, those colossal twerps would be receiving an eternal series of hydraulic wedgies, not given numerous media vehicles for their insipid prattle.

WBEZ can count on my non-support, financial and otherwise. It joins WTTW-TV in the ranks of pathetically mismanaged public broadcasting outlets in this once-somewhat-less hamskulled city.

Yeah, I'm sure a lot of people -- maybe most people I know -- love the talk rubbish on that station. People inexplicably adore Ira Glass. Fine. But I can't understand the decision to eliminate music shows as good as the ones currently on the station.

Boing Boing Sucks Sucks

Cory sucks.

Xeni sucks.

But why stop there? The whole obnoxious bunch of Boing Boingers suck. Where's Frauenfelder sucks dot com? And ... uhh, whoever the other nerdlingers are that post on that site -- they suck too.

Actually, the entire Internet sucks. Bad. But Boing Boing is such concentrated suckiness that it will give you a rash right where you really really don't want one.

This post sucks, as well, as does this entire blog, and yours truly, too. And every one of the people who has ever visited it probably sucks as well -- especially the ones who got here via silly Google searches like "white sox studs."

However, this post, this blog, and this blogger do not suck as much as a Frauenfelder Boing Boing post about how much certain people hate cilantro. Thanks, dorktwats. Now I am going to have to go through the entire rest of the day with a severe urge to shove bunch after bunch of cilantro up the nostrils of an untold number of I.T. workers, web designers, nerdy E.E. majors (redundant!), and whoever the hell else wastes time on this goddamn stupid WWW bullshit.

Excuse me. I have to go ram some aromatic leaves up my schnozz right now. Although I happen to like cilantro very much, so, joke's on you, Boing Boing suckers!

Michael Nesmith Knows the Score

Nesmith: I don't hold much hope for Warner Music Group or Sony being a player in the future…. The problem with those kind of companies is that they don't have any good way to add value anymore.

For years, they'd support the artist in their nascent stages and get the goods to market. Those are old-time, Methuselean economics…. There are whole new businesses that will wander in and boot these guys out.

WN: So we can write the obituaries?

Nesmith: Those obituaries were written two decades ago. What you are seeing here is an inertial burn (laughs).

http://www.wired.com/news/culture/music/0,70586-0.html

This Day in Futility: 1925 Edition

According to Pat Hughes, on April 14, 1925, WGN (Chicago, AM 720) broadcast the first regular-season Chicago Cubs game mojoed over the invisible airwaves (crackling with life), which happened to be a Cubs victory over the Pittsburgh Pirates. Of course, as many people know (or can fake if they got the Google), the very first radio play-by-play broadcast of an MLB game was by KDKA (Pittsburgh, AM 1020), a Pirates-Phillies game aired on August 5, 1921.

On the date of that first Cubs broadcast, April 14, 1925, Studs Terkel was just over a month shy of his 13th birthday.

Lest you question WGN's business judgment in choosing to wirelessly disseminate an account of the lowly Cubs when none had bothered to do so previously -- and at a time during which its parent corporation didn't even own the team, yet -- remember that, in 1925, it had only been 17 years since the last Cubs championship (1908, and how sweet the memories ... ah yes, as I recall, the Chicago nine handsomely squelched the ambitions of the Tigers of Detroit, winning four games to Detroit's one). And they did make it to the World Series in 1910 (losing to the Philles in 5 games ... damn you, Pennsylvania!) and 1918 (losing to the Red Sox in 6 ... damn you, Massassachahusetts!). The Pirates, on the other hand, went on to win the World Series in 1925, besting the Washington Senators in a 7-game phantasmagoria.

The Cubs remained an actual, real professional baseball team for a while, at least if occasionally making it to the Fall Classic qualifies a team for that status. Their next World Series appearances came in 1929 (where they lost to the Philadelphia Athletics in 5 ... Penna., you are really pushing it!), 1932 (fell in 4 to the Yankees, whom I believe Pope Benedict excoriated in a Good Friday uhh en-pope-ular or whatever they call it, so I don't need to say more about them), 1935 (Tigers won in 6 -- the revenge must have been sweet, delayed though it was by 27 trips around the sun), 1938 (fuck you Yanks, I won't even specify how many games it took, but one is surprised that they didn't find a way to do it in 3), and 1945 (Tigers victorious in 7 ... rubbing it in for the 10-year reunion).

And after that, bupkis.


*Sigh*

Well, anyway, in honor of this day, which we'll call a milestone anniversary in the field of broadcasting, regardless of the Chicago National League Ball Club's wretched fecklessness, the CBRAT loser's lounge will be serving Ron Santo Grilled-Cheese Sammitches (on English Muffins, naturally) all evening long, free of charge, and gratis, too.

Eat all you want, but please, want all you eat.

Sadly, the least popular feature of this blog ...

... not that it's easy to tell ... would probably be the mp3 material. Due to no downloads taking place for 30 days, almost all of the Dez Fake Radio Dezstravaganza files were deleted by Rapidshare, although I could conceivably re-upload them. Conceivably being another word for "probably not disappoint anybody if I failed to."

The Baz Luhrmann-Mary Schmich parody is still available, as are all the other mp3s -- Slut Kings and all. Granted, the links to the files are contained in posts that are way down below the fold now, and are hard to find.

But that doesn't mean I've given up on posting audio. I'm working on assessing file sharers that are maybe more friendly to use than Rapidshare, as well as perhaps adding Flash jukebox capability to the blog so you could give an mp3 a test-listen before bothering with the downloading process. And I may set up a more convenient menu type dealy for the sidebar. Or not.

So, in the not-so-distant future, when I get around to it, I'm planning to put up some rare Otis Ball numbers and, of course, more Dez fake radio.

In the meantime -- there will also be more of the second-least popular feature of this blog: Everything else.

White Sox Panic Order Lifted

Things seem to be back on track.

But don't get too comfortable. Panic orders can be re-implemented at a moment's notice. And it's a long, long season.

Q: What's new, Mike?

A: Just my socks!

OK ... so that's not so new ... that's an exchange from a TV commercial for a Chicago Tribune promotion Mike Royko did ... or acquiesced in ... more than 20 years ago. Hey, am I an Asperger's case or what? Some people in Chicago media recall that promotion, I'm sure -- which involved tube socks with Royko's autograph stitched on them in red thread (I think I still have one) -- but I bet nobody but nobody else remembers the TV commercial for it.

Toward the bottom of this page on Crain's Chicago Business site is a pretty funny account of a fistfight between Royko and the editor and publisher of Chicago Daily Law Bulletin, Bernard Judge, that broke out when Judge razzed Royko about the socks. Naturally, this took place at the Billy Goat.

Speaking of Mike Royko and the Billy Goat, via Gaper's Block comes this fine video clip of Mike hanging out at the tavern (still working for the Sun-Times, as clearly evidenced by his softball jersey) and yapping about various Mike Royko type stuff.

Mostly softball. Sixteen-inch, what else? Which maybe I'll post more about someday, although I haven't played in years, being the shittiest athlete in the world.

Highly recommended. I know you won't watch it, but I recommend it anyway. OK, I'll just watch it twice. That'll cover for you.

POSTSCRIPT: Good god, those are women's glasses, though, aren't they?

Who's Subvertin' Who?

Magic 8-ball says, Phone-Jamming Records Point to White House.

Actually, the Associated Press says that.

Key figures in a phone-jamming scheme designed to keep New Hampshire Democrats from voting in 2002 had regular contact with the White House and Republican Party as the plan was unfolding, phone records introduced in criminal court show.

The records show that Bush campaign operative James Tobin, who recently was convicted in the case, made two dozen calls to the White House within a three-day period around Election Day 2002 — as the phone jamming operation was finalized, carried out and then abruptly shut down.

Gee, I dunno. I bet if you look close enough, you will discover that the telephone company was based in Caracas, or some of its maintenance trucks buy fuel at Citgo stations, or some other clear indicator that budding dictator and fat foreigner HUGO CHAVEZ (cue sinister music) is behind this, too. Maybe someone can post an entire article from the Punta Gorda Gleaner-Bee or another journalistic mammoth of that nature.

Hugo Chavez Subverts Sinking Slider over Left Field Fence

Wow. You can't make this up -- and I didn't. Quoth the Sun-Times:

The City Council's most powerful alderman on Friday accused the Venezuelan-owned company at the center of the ballot-counting debacle March 21 of being part of an "international conspiracy to subvert the electoral process" in the United States.

...

"I'm saying that the potential for tampering with the American electoral process -- where presidential elections can be determined by just one state -- exists here. . . . Don't you think that [Venezuelan President] Hugo Chavez would love to be able to control elections in the United States of America? This is just the beginning."

http://www.suntimes.com/output/elect/cst-nws-vote08.html

But ... isn't subverting the election process in Chicago a little like corrupting the morals of Marilyn Chambers?

And what I do not think Ald. Burke -- or anyone else in Chicago -- has any interest whatsoever in investigating is a story that this very blog can now break exclusively. We're scooping them all. ESPN. Sports Illustrated. The Nation. Popular Mechanics.

Please, sit down before reading the next sentence.

Venezuelans subverted the 2005 American League playoffs and World Series.

Clearly, the White Sox were not good enough to go that far without subversion to help them. They didn't even have any .300 hitters. And their weak start this season only bears that out. Sure, they won today -- but barely. They still lost this weekend's series to the lowly Royals, only winning one out of three games.

OK, the Sox maybe beat the Astros fair and square. Houston sucked. But that playoff series against Anaheim was more fixed than Joan Rivers' nose. Not only was that dropped third strike to A.J. not dropped -- it was only strike 2!!! Watch the replays, man! You need hi-def and a Tivo so you can go frame by frame, and some video enhancement software also helps. And the closer you look, the more you see.

Yes, I said it.

OZZIE GUILLEN AND HUGO CHAVEZ CONSPIRED TO SUBVERT THE 2005 WORLD SERIES!

Now what are you going to do about it?

POSTSCRIPT: Watch your back, Ted Turner. Ozzie and the Venezuelans could be subverting you next. Ozzie was sighted in the audience at last Monday's WWE RAW event, spurring rumors that the wily Caracasian and his renegade Presidente have joined forces with Vince McMahon.

This, of course, can only mean that Chicago elections are going to become even more crooked in the future -- if that's humanly possible -- and are going to involve a lot more oily musclemen, steroid-clotted bimbos, and bad heavy metal. Again -- if that's humanly possible.

Studs "Woo Woo" Terkel Debuts at Wrigley

Venerated Chicago institution Studs Terkel has wrested the title of Number One Cubs Fan from not-so-venerated Chicago institution Ronnie "Woo Woo" Wickers. Terkel will be attending all home games this season, as well as making a smattering of Cubs appearances in Milwaukee, St. Louis, and Cincinnati, and bringing his trademark "Woo! Woo!" cheer to each contest.

"Woo! Working people! Woo! Oral history!* Woo! Red and white checked shirt! Woo! Red socks! No, wait! White Sox! No! No! No! Cubs! Woo! Yeah, Cubs! Woo! Cubs! Woo! Bugger off! Woo! Bugger off! Woo!"

He will also be seen posing for photographs and making a general nuisance of himself at every North Side bar and restaurant, sometimes several at a time like some horrific embodiment of Bugs Bunny. Just like the original Woo Woo.

In addition, Terkel will be appearing in the WGN booth during 7th inning stretch, playing a tape recording of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" being sung by a spot welder, a manicurist, a bartender, and a Wobbly.

Meanwhile ... Ronnie Wickers is having a rough time finding a new home. He was last seen on 31st Street, fleeing from an unwelcoming crowd of Sox fans.

"Woo! White Sox! Woo! White Sox! Woo! South Side! Woo! South Side! Woo! Bridgeport! Woo! Irish people! Woo! Chasing me! Woo! Throwing bottles at my head! Woo!"

*(By the way, did you know that a recent poll found that 3 out of 4 high school students do not consider oral history to be history? Alarming reports of groups of teenaged girls inviting boys to come over and talk into a tape recorder are widely circulated in contemporary suburbia. Meanwhile, young women conducting field research of public records archives, newspaper libraries, and other documentary sources are branded "sluts.")

And Now a Word from Roy Scheider

"Hello. This is Chief Brody of the Amity Police Department with a public service announcement about childhood obesity.

"Folks, if kids in this country get any fatter ... we're gonna need a bigger boat.

"Ha ha! See what I did there? That was my line from Jaws 1. 'We're gonna need a bigger boat.'

"Seriously, kids, try to slim down a little."

(References to and/or fake quotes by any person or persons real or imaginary are completely noncommercial, satiric, and parodic in nature, and are not meant to convey or imply any connection, endorsement, affiliation, or relationship between this blog and said person or persons, because there isn't any. This blog is in full compliance with Title 15 of the United States Code, Title 17 of the United States Code, Title 18 of the United States Code, Title 37 of the Code of Federal Regulations, the Paris Convention, the Berne Convention, the Berne Identity, the Berne Supremacy, the Madrid Protocol, the Sigma Protocol, the WIPO Treaty, the Nice Agreement, the Nasty Agreement, the Nasty Disagreement, and the laws and regulations of the 50 United States, a variable number of member countries of the European Union, and a handful of provinces of Canada. Folks, if intellectual property law gets any more complicated, we're gonna need a bigger boat. Love, the legal department.)

Time for White Sox Nation to Panic?

Yes. Definitely. Panic hard. Get drunk and panic tonight.

Meanwhile, across town, my early impression is that the Cubs have made some improvements. Ronny Cedeno runs real fast and seems to open up more possibilities for "fundamental ball" aka "small ball" aka "non-Three Stooges style baseball." The absence of Corey Feldman, er, Patterson is a welcome relief. Matt Murton could be a star. Derrek Lee looks like he could repeat his fine performance from last season. Hey, the Cubs might even make it as far as third place this year. Too bad their pitching staff is such a disaster.

Although the Sox hurlers have no right to brag so far. Freddy Garcia didn't look so good the other day. Jon Garland tonight ... ugh. It may be early, but it's never too early to panic. Run into the street screaming, "Why Boone Logan, Ozzie?! Why then?!"

At least on the North Side they can look forward to Sunday's mound debut of Cat Power. Heh heh ... I said "mound."

Residents of the Second City Might Not Have Such an Inferiority Complex if People Didn't Always Remind Them That Chicago Is Really the THIRD City ...

... No, of course they would. Inferior is Chicago's middle name -- The Windy Inferior City. It's the City of Big Inferior Shoulders. Inferior Hog Butcher to the World. I saw a man, he danced with his inferior wife. It's my kind of inferiorialistically toddlin' town.

That small irrelevant point aside, WFMU's Beware of the Blog has a pretty well-burgooed Second Part up now in its Two Part post about the '90s Chicago No-Wave thing, which is pretty interesting. So ... yeah ... it's pretty good. This has been another one of yer "STDPM Just Wanted to Say He Likes This" posts, with "Unnecessary and arbitrary Capitalization®" thrown in. Click on the damn link.

Studs: "Royalty, Bush: Bugger Off!"

A personal hero, Studs Terkel, appeared on The Daily Show last night (Studs' name links to video of the interview). Studs always raises my spirits. He really does, I love the guy. Although I'm not sure how to interpret the royalty status he gets from various "liberal" media outlets. I sort of recall a slight upsurge of interest in I.F. Stone, just before he died. Like there was a combination of actual desire to pay tribute to and learn something new from an iconoclastic American treasure, along with a vague imprimatur of acceptability predicated on perceived harmlessness. Shit, that crazy old man's gonna croak anytime now, plus, who the fuck's gonna pay attention to a 2,000 year old man?

And what does the target audience of The Daily Show know about or give a shit about Studs Terkel, I wonder? What do 19-year-old kids think when they watch that interview? Does it just bounce off of them like any other boring & irrelevant crapstream about old people, or what?

As the senior citizens among us know, it's all denouement after age 22.

At least it seems to me like he's been getting a lot more mainstream media attention in the last several years, and I'd guess that it's probably partly because reaching a certain age -- in Studs' case, older than Christ OR the hills, put together -- he's excused for saying kooky things like telling the "President, so-called," to "BUGGER OFF!" But Studs didn't acquire some kind of senile "feistiness" at age 90 or something, like some cantankerous coot in the neighborhood who hobbles out of the house and steals your baseballs when they go onto his lawn, screeching, "Bugger off, you kids! Bugger off!" Check the record, man, he was always a big-mouthed cranky socialist. Labor movement, McCarthy hassles, Mahalia Jackson, blah blah blah ... anyone who might even stumble on this blog accidentally already knows everything about Studs. Or else, if they don't, they know how to work a Google, so if they didn't know everything about Studs, they must not care, because they coulda found out by now. Yep, good old Google-brand Internet search engine. Really there's no reason for any of us to talk to one another ever again, is there?

Hall of Mosses of Semi-Fame (induction ceremony number 1)

Imaginary people often say to me, or email me or IM me, what have you, and say to me, Stronger Than Dirt Pete Moss, your blog is on fire, mi amigo, it is en fuego. Are there any other unz out there like you? And can you italicize this when you quote it? It's a personal dream. Thank you, I'll hang up and listen for my answer.

Stronger Than Dirt Pete Moss is far from the only Moss around, boyo. So we're killing ... er, devoting a little time to pay tribute to the Semi-Famous Mosses of the Internet, (probably not) to be a semi-regular feature of the Colicky Baby Records and Tapes blog.

Please hold your applause until the end. Yeah, hold it between your knees.

I'm sorry, that was totally uncalled-for. On to the ceremony.

Our first celebrant:

Moss from "The I.T. Crowd"


Moss was too shy and frightened to be here this evening, but in his place ... we have no one. Well, we'll let him in the Hall of Mosses anyway, because he's a somewhat funny contemporary British sitcom character, and we here at CBRAT wish to mock the hell out of stuff like that to cover for the embarrassing fact that we like it as much as we do.

OK, blog wheels rolling, moving on:

Second up:

Moss from "Drinking With Moss"


This guy ... Moss ... owner of the Double Down, a dive bar in Vegas ... does a weird sort of talk show where he drinks with ... well, himself, Moss, but also guests. It's fairly entertaining. And kind of fucked up.

And, uh ... that's all the semi-famous Mosses for this time around. Modesty (and a grounded sense of reality) prevents me from nominating myself.

Honorary inductee:

Van Dyke Parks


Why Van Dyke Parks? Because we, meaning me, STD, sympathize with the unfortunate result of initializing his first name. That's why.

Also, why not? "Song Cycle" was way ahead of its time. Unfortunately, its time was also one that didn't stick around long when it got here. If it ever did.

Thanks for joining us. That's our show for tonight. Good night.