A STROLL THROUGH THE NABE

Not a lot of time this morning, so I'll just give you some thoughts, some links, some a' this, and some a' that.

1. From the "Hmmmm, That's Sorta' Weird" Files, I offer this little nugget, from A.P., about Manny Ramirez:

"the Red Sox quirky slugger with the $160 million contract is selling on eBay a JENN-AIR grill he said he bought for about $4,000."

The bidding, for the grill as well as an autographed baseball:

"was up to $20,201 and climbing"

Manny Ramirez has clearly entered what Bill Simmons called "The Tyson Zone," where nothing someone does surprises you. Manny, unlike Tyson & others, is harmless, but that doesn't change the fact that he is predictably bizarre. Which of the following sounds more unlikely:

a. Britney shaves her pubic hair on pay-per-view
b. Manny Ramirez sells a grill on e-Bay for a 500% profit
c. Angelina Jolie adopts the entire nation of Malawi
d. Dick Cheney eats Nancy Pelosi's German shorthaired pointer in two bites.

They all sound equally (un)likely.

2. My gym ("health club," is that the correct term?) plays a surprisingly decent variety of music. In two years I've heard a live version of The Pixies covering The Jesus & Mary Chain's "Head On"; The Arctic Monkeys "I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor" before it got popular; White Stripes; "classic" R.E.M., you get the gist. Sure, they play too much Gwen Stefani & Sheryl Crow, but since those chicks are poster-children for working out, I can understand it.

But lately they've gone too far. Every fucking time I'm there for the last month or so, they play this crapulent song, "Does The DJ Know What He's Doing To Me?" by a nightmare-inducing warbler named Alison Ray. For point of comparison, she's more annoying than Rachael Ray, if you can imagine such a thing. If you haven't heard this monstrosity, do yourself a favor and do not track it down. It'll stick in your head, and you'll be fucked for life. Don't.

And if you've already heard it, you know what I mean, and you're already fucked. So follow the link, look her up, do whatever you want to further destroy any hope of future happiness. I will hereby make it my life's mission to destroy Alison Ray's musical career. Who's with me?

Does the music selector at my gym know what he's doing to me?

3. From The Disgruntled Chemist, here's a good (and funny) bit on CNN, Intelligent Design Theory, bad reporting, and the ever-famous Masters degree in "science."

4. Finally, I'm sure everyone's aware that our fearless President decided yesterday to throw a bit of a tantrum on national TV (from Josh Marshall), as he dissembled, shambled, grimaced & grunted about Gonzales, Congression subpoenas, executive privilege power, and presidential "precedent."

Anyhow, I love Toast's take on things over at Two Glasses. Check the whole post out (it's quite short), but here's a little taste:

From the Florida recount forward, this administration has brought us to the brink of one "Constitutional Crisis" after another, and every time we have been denied that moment of reckoning . . . I want that reckoning. I want it for all the respectable reasons. It is vital to the health of the United States that this reckless, arrogant vision of a "unitary" executive be officially repudiated, restoring the White House to its intended position as one among three co-equal branches of government. It is an essential point of principle that we demonstrate to the world that we are, still, a nation of laws and not men. It is imperative that we set an example for future would-be domestic tyrants so that they will understand that they hold office at our pleasure, and that we can and will hold them personally accountable for their actions. But there's also something more, something perhaps not altogether wholesome, something personal that feeds this longing for a climactic confrontation: I want to see George Bush and Dick Cheney broken. Not in the sense of "harmed" or "destroyed" but in the sense of brought to heel. I want to see them forced, wholly against their wills, to Do What They Are Fucking Told.

Brought. To. Heel. Hell yeah.