Dewey – Truman Redux

Though the first presidential debate between McCain and Obama is still a few hours away, the Washington Post reports that as of this morning the McCain campaign was already declaring victory via this ad which appeared on the Wall Street Journal’s website(screenshot):

While I may frequently disagree with his politics, I have always regarded John McCain as an honorable man. As the McCain campaign has reminded us incessantly over the past year, John McCain refused an early release from the Hanoi Hilton, unwilling to leave his fellow POWs behind. You’ve no doubt also been assured that McCain is a man who will challenge his own party when partisan politics do not mesh with his sense of moral obligation to his constituency. These points have been hammered into our collective consciousness as exemplars of McCain’s fine public service record, and, especially, his honor.

This is part of the reason that McCain’s campaign has left such a sour taste in my mouth. In reversing or dramatically redefining his own, long-held positions on key issues such as abortion and the environment, and in his selection of a laughably underqualified Vice Presidential Nominee, McCain has called his honor into question. Perhaps, I’ve tried to tell myself, this is simply the high cost of running for President in a two-party system. But as the McCain camp pulls more ridiculous stunts (“suspending” his campaign and running this ad are prime examples), his image veers further from “maverick reformer” and more toward GOP lapdog. Where’s the honor in that?

Red Meat in a Blue State

This, while by no means comprehensive, is a listing of some of the best burgers in LA, as well as a few spots with big local reputations that are ultimately underwhelming. Commonalities abound (including a special predilection for secret sauce — usually a minor variation on Thousand Island), but most of the joints have their own special flair and everyone has a personal favorite. In no particular order:

In N’ Out — This is obvious but bears mentioning for several reasons.

Fries, cooked to order: Utterly essential. Being able to ask for fries well-done eliminates any anxiety associated with fast food ordering. Well done fries are an essential component of Animal Style Fries. Covered with 2 slices of cheese, grilled onions, and special sauce, these are the Bounty of late night foodstuff, a quicker-picker-upper that absorbs excess alcohol and tacks on crucial hours of drinking to any bender. Well-done fries ensure fully melted cheese and prevent sogginess.

Cost: A full meal at In N’ Out will run you less than a value meal at most major national chains, and the quality is incomparable. For the price, this is probably the best burger around.

Cult of Personality: Why extol the virtues of this burger when former Heisman winner Troy Smith can do it for me. “For the folks back in Ohio, they need to understand first and foremost, it is a fresh burger,” Smith said. “The lettuce and tomatoes are extremely fresh. And they toast the buns. That’s huge. That’s key. They use a special kind of sauce, too. The sandwich is incredible after a long night.”

The fact that these comments were made in the lead-up to the 2007 BCS Championship Game — in which his OSU team got crushed 41-14 by Florida — suggests Troy’s focus was misplaced. Still, priorities are priorities, and I bet a few Double-Doubles helped to ease the pain.

The only downside here is the wait. Any time, day or night, expect a line.

…

Pie N’ Burger — This Pasadena establishment feels like a relic from a bygone era. From the wood-paneled walls to the antique cash register to the surly, white-haired waitresses whose dispositions betray the discontent of serving burgers every day since junior year of high-school, everything about this place says “classic.” The service is so poor — and the prices so outrageous — that it’s almost a shame the burgers are so good.

But they are good … really fucking good. The griddle, which looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in at least a few decades, seasons the 1/4 lb. patties perfectly, and the just-charred exterior gives way to tender, luscious beef. The grilled buns are smeared with PN’B’s special recipe Thousand Island and topped with cheese, hand-leafed lettuce, and thick sliced dills. The whole sandwich is wrapped in paper and delivered to your table — 45 minutes after you ordered.

It’s the definition of simple elegance. The crisp lettuce and pickles add just the right crunch to the sandwich, and the flavors intermingle without threatening to overwhelm each other. The burger is almost delicious enough to make the wait seem worthwhile, at least until the check comes. A burger and fries, with a drink and a slice of any of the immaculate pies will set you back $20.

All Bark …

The attack dog has been loosed.  Anyone befuddled by John McCain’s selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate got a crystal clear view of his motivations last night.  Among the many questions swirling around the “VPILF” on both sides of the aisle, were doubts about her ability to speak effectively in front of the massive RNC crowd.  Despite a rough start, she quickly settled into her comfort zone and dispelled such concerns with her commanding presence and winning smile.  Sadly, that same winning smile belied the overarching tone of her speech — sarcastic, vitriolic, and outright mean.

Norm MacDonald and the Art of Anti-Comedy

Among my fellow viewers, the presenters at last night’s Comedy Central Roast of Bob Saget elicited reactions ranging from “Who the fuck are you?” (Jim Norton) to “I’m impressed you’re still alive, but why are you here?!?” (Cloris Leachman), which, I suppose, is not terribly surprising for a comedian whose career peaked close to 15 years ago.  Within the cavalcade of has-beens who lined up rip Saget to pieces, John Stamos did his best to set the high-water mark with a gutsy on-stage makeout session with Leachman and vets Gilbert Gottfried and Geoff Ross chipped in with strong bits. The real star, though, was Norm MacDonald.

Largely invisible since the cancellation of his sitcom and the massive box office failure of his movie Dirty Work (directed, incidentally, by Saget), Norm was on the recieving end of some vicious jokes about his career and his supposed gambling problems.  Gottfried’s assertion that Saget was ”a necrophiliac [because] he fucked Norm MacDonald in his career,” was a particular highlight.  But on a night when most of the roasters relied on stale jokes about Saget raping the Olsen Twins and the Johns (Stamos and Lovitz) being gay, Norm stepped to the mic and did something truly courageous: he bombed. 

Like a much funnier Neil Hamburger, Norm’s set relied on wooden delivery and terrible punch lines to generate laughs.  During his first few jokes, the audience sat in stunned near-silence, unable or unwilling to laugh as MacDonald floundered on the stage.  But as the sharp contrast between Norm’s self-consciously awful zings and the biting, vulgar wit that preceded them became apparent, everyone let their guard down.  In short order Norm’s utter lack of humility garnered the biggest laughs of the night, and it worked because he didn’t care whether people laughed with him or at him — he just cared that they laughed. 

Do yourself a favor and watch the full video of his performance.  (If you have problems with the sound, clips can be found @ comedycentral.com)

The China Syndrome, Part 2

China just can’t seem to keep their story straight.

First He’s 14, as reported by China’s official English-language paper on May 23rd.

Then He’s 16, proud holder of a passport with a 1992 birthday.

Now He’s 13, at least according to a report published last November by China’s government sponsored news agency.

Regardless of age, one thing’s for sure: He’s a lady.  And maybe, just maybe, the source of more confusion than any person on the planet at the moment.

Since well before the Chinese women took home the overall Gold on Monday night, competitor He Kexing has been at the center of a raging controversy over the ages of China’s delegates.  According to reports, online documents which reported He’s age to be 13 as of last year disappeared just in time for China to submit a passport listing her birthday as January 1, 1992.  Now, one such document has surfaced, a listing of gifted young Chinese athletes published at the end of last year by the government.

It’s Never Too Early …

On Tuesday news broke that condom purveyor Lifestyles had offered global tweeny-bopper sensation Miley Cyrus a $1 million dollar contract to endorse their product.  Nevermind that Cyrus has pledged a vow of abstinence until marriage, that the target demographic for her marketing behemoth alter-ego Hannah Montana is the 6-14 range, and that Cyrus herself is only 15!  And they say that the age of innocence is dead.

I recognize as much as anyone the need to ensure that teens understand the dangers of unprotected sex, but this latest play borders on the absurd.  It’s one thing to have “the talk” with your child as they enter adolescence and prepare to start dating; it’s another thing entirely to have to explain to a 9 year-old what Hannah means when she sings her latest bubblegum hit about “shielding your rocket.”

Thankfully, Cyrus and her handlers had the good sense to turn the offer down.  Judging by the Vanity Fair debacle and the risque pictures that keep finding their way to the internet it’s the only good sense exhibited by anyone in the Cyrus camp recently.  Still, though the wholesome image Cyrus trades on is cast into sharper relief by the media frenzy surrounding her behavior, it’s nice to see a recognition that some things are more important than money . . . even if the decision is motivated more by the desire to protect a flagging reputation than to protect America’s youth.

Good Knight

Thank goodness for Joel Schumacher.  If 1997′s Batman and Robin had never been unleashed upon the world and summarily eviscerated by every critic this side of Gotham, someone else might have taken over the reigns of the ham-fisted series that Burton begat and continued churning out similar tripe for years to come.  Instead, Schumacher’s putrid mess of a film left audiences running for the exits and paved the way for director Chris Nolan’s 2005 series reboot, Batman Begins. 

At the risk of sounding like a sycophant, I’ll come clean: I was a huge fan of Batman Begins.  The film was a bit heavy on exposition and light on action, but it was an intelligent and complex take which gave Batman and Bruce Wayne some much deserved depth.  Eschewing comic-book convention and the camp leanings that have long characterized the franchise, Nolan’s interpretation re-invented the Batman mythos while maintaining proper reverence for the source material.  Consequently there’s no movie I’ve looked forward to more over the past year than his follow-up, The Dark Knight. 

As a group of us walked out of the Citywalk IMAX at 1:30 on Tuesday morning, every ounce of enthusiasm and energy drained by the two hour wait for seats and the 152-minute rush of sheer adrenaline that followed, a friend remarked in atypically stoic fashion that she was “satisfied” with the movie.  Satisfied?  The Dark Knight has so galvanized critical and public consensus that, with $158 million in box office, it boasts the biggest opening weekend ever and is currently the #1 rated movie of all time according to IMDB.com (take that, Godfather!).  Satisfied!?!  Surely, I thought, she could be more effusive with her praise.  But the more I considered it, given the hype surrounding the film and our impossibly high expectations going in, I realized that I too was “satisfied” and I believe that satisfaction speaks volumes.  Nolan takes The Dark Knight further than its predecessor in almost every respect, ratcheting up the action and emotional ante to epic proportions while still delivering the intellectually rewarding experience that has characterized his work to date.  The Dark Knight is not without its flaws (chiefly it’s a bit overlong), but it is a very good film, and as a comic book movie it’s transcendent entertainment.

Hollow Victory

The Pennsylvania Primary is finally over. After a month of mud-slinging, faux pas, and pandering, the votes are in and one thing is clear: neither Clinton or Obama can bowl. Also, Hillary won. Big whoop.

During her victory speech last night, Clinton claimed that “the tide has turned” in the campaign. CNN analyst Paul Begala, called her 10-point win “an extraordinary victory”. Funny then, that even after last night Hillary is still trailing by nearly 150 delegates (CNN’s latest count puts her at 1586 to Obama’s 1719). Next on the cards are North Carolina and a hotly contested race in Indiana. Clinton and Obama will likely split the Hoosier state’s 84 delegates down the middle, but in North Carolina — where 134 delegates are on the line — Obama is poised to bury the former first lady and further increase his lead.

Hillary has vowed to continue fighting for the nomination, and she maintains a slim chance of winning the popular vote. On the back of her pervasive optimism, the Hillary campaign is fast becoming “The Little Engine That Could”. Unfortunately for her there’s little remaining coal to fire that engine. Her campaign has been hemorrhaging money for months, and despite supposed donations totalling $2.5 million yesterday Clinton’s campaign is on shaky financial footing to say the least. Short of loaning her campaign more of her personal millions, Clinton’s options are limited.

The longer Hillary fights, the longer her odds seem to get. Slate.com’s Hillary Deathwatch today estimates her chances at a paltry 10.7% — roughly where they’ve hovered each day since the feature began on March 28th. Whether she is the better candidate is inconsequential at this point. Unless, as one pundit and former Clinton adviser puts it, “the wheels come off” of Obama’s campaign in the next few weeks, he remains the presumptive Democratic nominee. The internal wranglings of the Democrats have already done enough harm to the party’s image in the face of the united front that the Republicans present behind McCain. By continuing to run, it seems that all Hillary can do is serve to undermine Obama and, by extension, her party.

Tom Hicks in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Shitlist”

In January of 2007, when American investors Tom Hicks and George Gillett first emerged as the front-runners to assume ownership of Liverpool FC, I could hardly have been a more ardent supporter of the plan.  Following Roman Abramovich’s takeover of Chelsea FC and Malcolm Glazer’s acquisition of Manchester United, the face of English football changed dramatically.  Gone was any semblance of parity throughout the league; clubs without strong global marketing strategies and huge transfer funds could not be expected to compete for the title.  Despite Mr. Glazer’s vilification by the Man U faithful for turning their sporting club into a business venture, it seemed abundantly clear that Liverpool needed to follow the same route.

Liverpool, after all, have a reputation as the most successful club in England.  They have won the top division of English soccer eighteen times and scaled the heights of continental glory, having been crowned the best team in Europe on no less than five occasions.  Certainly times have not always been so rosy, a point which the two consecutive decades of domestic underachievement (with not a single league title won) have driven home.  However, given the club’s pedigree and the impending construction of a shiny new 60,000 seat stadium, it only made sense to turn the club into a money-making enterprise capable of generating the funds necessary to compete with its world-beating rivals – teams like Chelsea, Barcelona, AC Milan, and Man U.  Besides, Hicks seemed to have done a fine job of running Dallas’ NHL franchise (the near-and-dear to my heart Stars) since acquiring the club a decade earlier.  Admittedly my view was more optimistic than most, but as a die-hard Liverpool fan, I happily threw my red-blooded support behind the changing of the guard.

Over the intervening months, however, my feelings made the slow transition from being squarely onboard the Hicks/Gillett bandwagon to the somewhat less optimistic “GETMEOFFGETMEOFF!! OH LORD NOW I’M OFF AND THE BANDWAGON IS RUNNING ME OVER AND TOM HICKS IS PISSING ON MY DREAMS!”

Gender Politics As Usual

Several weeks ago, Tara Roberts, Senior Editor of CosmoGIRL! magazine, contributed an article to theRoot.com professing her support for Hillary Clinton and bemoaning the derision with which fellow African Americans have met her choice of candidate. Roberts argues that her race is not the predominate feature of her identity and vents her frustration at the overwhelmingly negative response of her peers towards her decision to back Clinton. Unfortunately for Ms. Roberts, this response is not wholly unjustified.

While I have little quarrel with Mrs. Clinton’s politics, I do have an issue with the post-feminist backlash against Obama that is promoted by many of her supporters. By allying herself with the likes of Gloria Steinem or Geraldine Ferraro, women who support her campaign on the basis of a ‘gender gap’ while simultaneously ignoring the socio-economic gulf that exists between whites and blacks in this country, Hillary has damaged her own credibility. Ferraro’s remarks in particular, and Hillary’s refusal to decry or even to acknowledge them, are a glaring indication of the increasingly misguided aims of the feminist movement in this country. While both are obviously still pressing issues, the ‘gender gap’ in America exists on fewer fronts and appears to be narrowing at a greater rate than does the ‘race gap’.

As a black woman Ms. Roberts is stuck between a rock and a hard place, bound to be criticized by a section of her peers regardless of her choice of candidate. Perhaps the acquaintances who question her decision simply wonder why she would choose to throw her support behind the candidate whose campaign has sought to actively devalue a portion of her identity. I guess there’s much to be said for CosmoGIRL! Power.