Remote-Control Hunting

Well, Renee, looks like the legislators in West Virginia were reading your thoughts yesterday and are now trying to enact a bill to prevent thugs like you from busting any more caps in Bambi's ass. Apparently they want to put an end to your favorite new sport, remote-control hunting.

For those unfamiliar with remote-control hunting, allow me to explain. The phenomenon started in Texas (shocking, no?) and, with the help of a little software, anyone who fancies himself a modern-day Davy Crocket can now sit behind a computer, and control a camera and shotgun at a game farm to sight and shoot prey.

But the humanitarians in West Virginia have now put these joy stick jockeys in their sights, and are aiming to shut down the computer-operated gaming facilities. The legislation's sponsor, Joe DeLong, a hunter himself, says he finds remote-control hunting, "a disgrace to the sport."

That's right, Joe. It's totally unfair to shoot a deer with a mouse. Shooting a deer with an AK-47, that's much more sportsmanlike...

Love Can Sneak Up On You...

...unless it's in the New York Times, in which case it will assault you in EVERY section of today's paper. Yeah, sure, I know love's the bread and butter of Styles, and I confess I read the Vows section religiously each Sunday. But still, this weekend edition seems to overflow with the love junk.

First of all, the Modern Love article? Bleck. Sorry, but I really don't want to hear about the "torrid" sex you're having, Mrs. Married Lady With Kids. Then, in the magazine's "Lives" dek, Alicia Erian tells us, "His love could make me forget other men. So why couldn't I forget him?" Today's City section chronicles a Lubavitcher matchmaker in "Love With the Proper Stranger."

What gives? Seems like our fair Grey Lady is one step away from purple prose...

Drink Up, Jews, It's Purim Time!

So if you don't already have long-standing plans for Purim tonight, come to the Purim Spiel at Congregation Shaare Zedek on the Upper West Side (where else?), and make your mother happy for once!

I've contributed a sketch to the show, and trust me, if you are as good and drunk as you're supposed to be to celebrate this holiday, you'll find the material hysterical!


Purim Invitation 


The Info You Need 

Crushing

I know it's probably a bad idea to admit to a crush in a blog. It's juvenile. It can only lead to future embarrassment. It will undoubtedly be seen and mocked by the crush in question. That said. I have a HUGE crush on **NAME REDACTED**, host of **NAME REDACTED**. Okay, no, I'd never actually seen him when the crush took hold, but I'd always enjoyed **IDENTIFYING DETAIL REDACTED**, and when I got the chance to work with him--again, no face to face interaction, just on the phone--I began imagining our life together.

Well, last night I finally got the chance to meet Captain Dreamy live and in person when I attended a lecture he gave at **NAME REDACTED**. And I became even more deeply doe-eyed when I realized 1. He was even better looking than his press photos and 2. He was much taller than I'd been envisioning. Hot. Our children would be tall!

Needless to say, when the lecture ended I bolted to the stage to introduce myself--handicapped people in the front row that I knocked over be damned--because I was ready to let kismet take over and let him recognize our mutual destiny.

Oh, and he was kind! He even smiled at me and pretended like he remembered who I was and the story I did for him. And as I stood there, beaming at him, bobbing my head and waiting for kismet to take over and waiting for him recognize our mutual destiny, he just kind of started shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking at the line of thirty other well-wishers who were now lined up behind me.

And I waited. Waited. Waited. Until, with no small touch of horror I realized that kismet had forsaken me and that he was not going to realize we shared a mutual destiny and now there was no graceful way for me to leave. So I started babbling on again about how great it was to meet him, how much I loved working with him, how wonderful the lecture was blablabla... it was more painful than slamming a pinky in a car door. In fact, as I reflect on it now, I think I'd like to slam my pinky in car door so at least I'll get momentary relief from my mortification...

When BAD reviews happen to GOOD friends...

I admit it: I occasionally indulge in a little shadenfreude. I can't help myself. When bad reviews happen to bad people, I think, "see that, there is justice in the world!" I think, "See that, it's not always going to be like that night when you turned on the TV just in time to see the shit-eating grin of the former boss who sexually harassed you waltzing up on stage to collect an Emmy award for his new show." But when a bad review happens to someone I like, like today, when a friend's movie opened to painful notices, I'm not sure what to think, except, "maybe her New York Times delivery dude will get run over before he throws the paper at her doorstep."

So here's a question: what do you say to a friend who has gotten so publicly spanked? (And I ask this knowing people will be reading and reviewing our book shortly.) Do you go the "all publicity is good publicity" route? Do you act like you thought it was a good review, pretending like you don't know what the words, "lazy," and "underwhelming" really mean? Or do you not acknowledge it at all, and merely cheer for your friend for getting something out there despite the odds?

I think I like option #3 best, though in truth, I've been pretending like I don't know what the word "lazy" means for years...

Artistic Bragging Rights

One of the great things about having incredibly talented artistic friends is that occasionally their genius gets appreciated. Though this doesn't happen frequently enough to suit my taste, this week's New Yorker gets it right:

Derek Buckner
Precisely observed rooftop views of New York that bring to mind muddied, modern-day Canalettos. A series of smaller paintings of panel-sided truks make the planes and blocks of color even more defined. Through April 2. (Billis, 511 W. 25th St. 212-645-2621.)

Derek's work is amazing and should not be missed! (that's my editorial comment)

Dubious Headline

"DeLay Is Treated By Cardiologist" (New York Times, 3/11/05)

This would imply the man has a heart, no?

Penis Proves Problematic In Maintaining Ethics

Harry Stonecipher, Flyboy-in-Chief of Boeing, was forced to resign after admitting to an affair with a female executive at the company. According to the NYTimes, the "Cipher" had been brought out of retirement specifically "to clean up the company's tarnished image."

WTF?!

There are so many troubling aspects to this front page story, where does one begin? Does one go first to the disbelief that a Viagra-adled senior citizen was so much the pussy hound that he couldn't keep it in his pants despite risks to his marriage, professional reputation and the credibility of Boeing, the world's second largest aerospace company? Does one marvel that in a country full of glass home-owning executives that they still dare to throw stones for the sexual activities of others? Or are we just more shocked that in light of all corporate malfeasance these days, that this, this is what will cause you to lose your job?

Bitter Pill

Favorite new oxymoron: "Jagged Little Pill, acoustic remix." That's right, apparently Alanis Morissette is coming out with a 10th anniversary re-recording of her paean to the crazy single girl.

But one would think the formerly honest songstress Morissette would at least have the decency to rename this warmer and fuzzier version of "Jagged" something more appropriate like, "Married, Edgeless and Ready to Pop Out Puppies."