Gingrinton

Newt Gin­grich was recently ques­tioned about his insis­tence Bill Clin­ton be impeached, given Newt’s own clear stance on non-​​consensual non-​​monogamy. Putting aside the redi­rec­tion game of chas­ing Clinton’s lie (rather than the act), I can’t help but think about another clas­sic Clin­ton line. You know the one.

The Google and the Hare

My mother wrote last week with news of Apple’s lat­est patent vic­tory, this time State­side. It got me going, and I’ve flat­tened it out here for your pleasure.

Something We Can Get Behind

My friend Jamie’s a remark­able clas­si­cal gui­tarist. He’s in two-​​man band, in fact, called Duo Orfeo. Not a self-​​professed lover of clas­si­cal, I lis­ten to their first album all the time. And they’re try­ing to do some­thing that may never have been done before, if you can look past that Ralph Macchio/​Ry Cooder thing in the 80s.

10 Lessons from my 10-Year High School Reunion

I won’t lie. I looked for­ward to this thing for, like, five years. But I wasn’t expect­ing to be trans­formed. It won’t sur­prise you high school reunions now seem to me another expres­sion of a bro­ken social sys­tem. But man, the going. It was a bap­tism. Of what, well. I might have to get back to you in ten.

I Get the News Bin Laden's Dead

Also, moments after depart­ing the stage, Trevor Byrne-​​​​Smith meets me behind the cur­tain and says, “Your set was great, man, but I’m always going to remem­ber it as the back­drop to hear­ing Bin Laden is dead.” Frankly, I’m get­ting tired of these world-​​​​class ass­holes upstaging me.

A Few Props

This week­end I’ll be migrat­ing the blog again. I don’t know if you’re much famil­iar with GoDaddy – I’m sure you’ve seen the ads – I’ve been honk­ing their horn since 2004. But their sex­ism bor­ders on misog­yny, and their ser­vice is sub-​​par. It’s time to move on, move on.

Terrible News

UPDATED: I mis­heard the report from a friend yes­ter­day, and con­fused Shira Erlich­man for Sheila Siob­han. For those con­cerned, please know Shira is, to the best of my knowl­edge, fine! I’m so sorry for any con­fu­sion, grief, and/​or any other prob­lems my mis-​​understanding has caused.

At this point I’m so thor­oughly unsure of what’s accu­rate, I’m pulling this post’s con­tent. Please leave any infor­ma­tion you have in the comments.

It's the Quantum Biologist's birthday!

If you haven’t yet seen The Quan­tum Biol­o­gist, you’re miss­ing some of the best, and strangest, fun in this sharp cor­ner of the inter­net. Weird plants, weirder ani­mals, and their extra­or­di­nary evo­lu­tion­ary paths show up week to week, in an enter­tain­ing and lov­ingly acces­si­ble tax­on­omy. And it’s dude’s birth­day. So go on and leave a note.

Our Traumatized Generation

A few months back I was riff­ing on my generation’s trau­ma­tized sense of humor. Lately I’ve been on about it again, and my ques­tions are start­ing to form con­cerns. For the record, I’m speak­ing mostly here about white peo­ple, but Car­los Men­cia makes a strong case for non-​​white enter­tain­ers being just as stupid.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Here’s hop­ing you and your sweetie enjoy a glo­ri­ous com­fort­able silence. I’ve got a beast of a post on the spit for tomor­row. But today, let’s do some­thing unmit­i­gat­edly sweet, cour­tesy of Neruda, my favorite playboy.