Mike Bridenstine's Tumblr Thing

Last week, I posted an innocuous Tweet about Chris Brown.  Well, it wasn’t “innocuous” in that I said I wanted him to kill himself with poison, but it was innocuous in that I don’t really care that much about celebrities.  I really don’t.  I just thought the joke worked (14 ReTweeters can’t be wrong!).  But what surprised me was the blowback I got for posting it.  One person called me a “hater” and said I was just jealous of a multimillionaire.  I’ll address that dipshit argument in a minute, but mostly I’m just surprised anyone would support that guy in the first place.  Chris Brown pounded the fuck out of Rihanna’s face three years ago and relatively nothing bad happened to him afterward.  Just to be clear, there was more of a negative reaction to the fucking Dixie Chicks saying they were against the War in Iraq than to Chris Brown repeatedly punching a woman’s face in.  In 1992, Sinead O’Connor ripped up a photo of the Pope on Saturday Night Live because she opposed the church’s wild and unchecked fucking of children.  Her career was essentially over after that.  On the other hand, Chris Brown punched and bit Rihanna repeatedly in a moving car (not a photo, but a real person) and he’s welcomed back to the Grammys with open arms like he was the victim.  It doesn’t make any sense.  In the case of Sinead O’Connor, Joe Pesci actually hosted SNL the following week and was applauded for saying if he’d been there for her performance he would have “gave her such a smack.”  It’s insane.

The thing is - the War in Iraq WAS bullshit.  And the Catholic church DID cover up child sexual abuse.  Both of those things WERE terrible.  Like, really terrible.  But I get why people were mad at the Dixie Chicks.  That’s about patriotism.  And I get why people were mad at Sinead O’Connor.  People tend to get touchy on religion (no pun intended).  But you’re sticking up for a man who beat the dogshit out of a woman.  Why - because you like “Run It!”?  Because you think “Kiss Kiss” with T-Pain is “the jam”?  You’d take to the streets in defense of a shitty, abusive boyfriend because you like his song about gum?  “Oh no, if he goes away, then where will I get ringtone pop songs about boning chicks?”  Your head is full of rocks.  Go get an interchangeable Usher CD and move on with your goddamn life.  You desperately need a better cause.     

As far as the “hater” comment goes, let’s try this instead (and read it slowly so it makes sense to you) - Sometimes people are just assholes.  If Chris Brown was some broke dude, he’d still be a shitty person.  But he happens to have money.  He has money to pay the best producers to make his catchy fuck jams you crave so hard.  But more importantly, he has money to hire a crisis management team to spin his unpunished abuse of a woman into something his moron fans think is worth defending.  Good job.  You’re susceptible to the manipulations of a PR firm.  But if you like the music of Chris Brown in the first place, the two kinda go hand in hand.  You’re dumb, you’re easily deceived and it might not be a bad idea for you to stop looking both ways when you cross the street.  That’s all.   

I’m sorry to be so harsh.  But I only hit you because I love you.            

I’ve been busy.  But a week after my monthly roast show, I like to clean up my RSS feed with the stories that probably won’t make it to next month’s show.  And if you think people will still be talking about Jeremy Lin and Whitney Houston a month from now, you’re out of your mind.  But that’s who dominated the last two weeks, so let’s talk about it. 

This guy has been everywhere.  Usually, when a sports figure blows up, you can avoid it by saying you don’t like sports because you’re a nerd.  In the case of Jeremy Lin, avoiding the story means that you’d also have to admit that you have zero Asian friends.  And you can’t have it both ways.  Personally, I like sports.  And I have Asian friends.  So I’ve inevitably talked to some of them about Jeremy Lin.  First, I called my friend Sam, who is Korean, to tell him the following story…

I was at a show at the Palace (and I won’t use anybody’s name because another blogging incident that happened there earlier this year) when a Chinese bartender approached a Korean comic for his drink order. 

Bartender: Happy Chinese New Year.
Comic (jokingly): I’m Korean, man.  What the fuck? 

The Bartender looked slightly surprised, so the comic tried to change the subject.

Comic: How ‘bout that Jeremy Lin?
Bartender: Jeremy Lin?  Oh yes.  I like him. 
Comic: So at least we’ve got that! 

Not the greatest story ever told, but the Jeremy Lin Phenomenon was becoming clearer to me.  When I talked to my friend, Sam, he said first and foremost how relieved he was that Lin didn’t have an accent.  And I was friends with Sam when William Hung became infamous on American Idol and when Lin Yun Chun, became an Internet sensation for singing like Whitney Houston on a similar Taiwanese show.  Although he didn’t mention either person by name, Sam said, “Imagine if the one example of your race that everybody else in the world knew was the worst stereotype possible.”  Then hilariously, Sam offered up Paul Giamatti.  He said, “Imagine if every other race thought white people were a bunch of Paul Giamattis.” 

 

1) For so many reasons, I think it’s funny that Sam thought Paul Giamatti was the worst example of white people.  And 2) He’s right.  It has to suck when time after time, the people that come to the forefront of pop culture from your race or ethnic group are goofballs.  Jeremy Lin isn’t a goofball.  He’s actually good at basketball.  But that’s when it dawned on me - Jeremy Lin’s fame isn’t entirely about race.  Race is just the fun part.     

Floyd Mayweather (who hates Asians, but not enough to fight one) Tweeted that Lin is overrated because of his race.  No.  It’s just the fun part.  Jeremy Lin is mostly overrated because he plays in New York.  It happens all the time.  You get a higher profile.  Last year, Sports Illustrated asked Major League Baseball players who the most overrated player in the league was.  1-3 were Alex Rodriguez, Joba Chamberlain and Derek Jeter - all of the New York Yankees.  On the opposite end, how many big market sports fans know who Monta Ellis or David Lee are?  Let’s switch Lin out with Kyrie Irving in Cleveland and see what the response would be.  Would ESPN have a Jeremy Lin update every five minutes if he was on the Cavaliers?  No.  But making sense of this through actual logic wasn’t nearly as fun as just saying, “How does he have such court vision with those eyes?” or making some sort of awful pun about math scores or small peeners.   

Then there’s the Tebow affect.  Would ESPN have a constant update about Kyrie Irving if he was on the Knicks?  Good question.  And the answer is also no.  Kyrie Irving was the #1 pick in the 2011 draft.  He’s supposed to be good.  But ESPN did give constant updates on Tim Tebow.  Tebow won a Heisman, but he’s not a good quarterback.  He’s a high-profile underdog with Jesus on his side who nobody thinks is good.  On the other hand, Jeremy Lin went to Harvard, which is an outstanding resume for any occupation, so long as it isn’t ‘professional basketball player.’  The last guy from the Crimson to play in the NBA (and for the Knicks, actually) was Ed Smith in 1954.  In other words, Jeremy Lin isn’t supposed to be good, Asian or not.  But he is.  He’s Susan Boyle with a jump shot.  AND he loves Jesus.  It’s like this dude showed up one day and said, “Hi.  You know how the football season just ended and the Giants won, so people in New York were just starting to pay attention to the NBA, but they’re disappointed because the Knicks suck?  Well, check this out - I’m an underdog who sleeps on his brother’s couch, but I’m going to lead the Knicks to a bunch of victories, even though you’ve never heard of me like I’m Fernando fucking Valenzuela in 1981.  Also, I’m Christian like Tim Tebow.  Oh, and one more thing… I’m fucking ASIAN!  Go ahead and put me on the cover of everything.”  But hurry, because if you blog about me a week later, it’s going to feel old already. 

You have to be pretty awesome to upstage the Grammys.  But that’s what Whitney Houston did last Sunday.  It made all of the other manufactured ‘outrageous’ shit that would have otherwise gotten attention seem as trite as they should have felt.  Nicki Minaj showed up with a guy who looked like the Pope.  Who is she trying to kid?  The Pope likes little butts.  But nobody really cares.  Now the most outrageous thing to me was that Mike Love of The Beach Boys was wearing a baseball cap that actually said ‘The Beach Boys.’  I take that back.  The most outrageous thing was that they allowed Chris Brown in the fucking building.  This guy is talented?  Why, because he can punch a woman AND drive at the same time?  And now Rihanna and Chris Brown are singing on each other’s tracks.  Great.  They’re a regular Romeo and Juliet.  But I only say that because I want Chris Brown to kill himself with poison. 

I could say, “Speaking of killing yourself with poison” but I won’t.  I loved Whitney Houston.  Always have since my sister came home with the cassette tapes of her first two albums in 1987.  Last year I was driving back from doing my podcast with Mike Burns and “Greatest Love of All” came on the radio.  We turned it up all the way, rolled all the windows down and screamed along with the song.  We were on the 5 coming back from Burbank and there was traffic.  We didn’t care.  And every driver that came along side of us on the freeway was smiling and encouraging us to keep going. 

Last Sunday in Brea, I had finished my last show at the Improv when Bert Kreischer was on stage.  And there was a couple in the crowd who were on a first date.  After finding this out, Bert pulled them both up on stage, gave them shots of Patron and convinced them to have their first kiss while the DJ blasted “I Will Always Love You”, accompanied by the house mood lighting.  The crowd went absolutely bonkers.  It was one of those great stand-up show moments that can’t really be recreated or explained to the same effect.

I know Whitney didn’t write either song, but she didn’t write the fucking “Star Spangled Banner” either and she still rocked that bitch at the 1991 Super Bowl, didn’t she?  My friend Kelly recently messaged me on Facebook to tell me that when we were in 5th grade I said Whitney did a great job with the National Anthem at the Super Bowl and it was the first time she’d ever heard me compliment anybody.  Since I was a piece of shit kid and am an even shittier adult, I believe her.  It could quite possibly be the first time I ever said anything good about another person.  I guess the message of “Greatest Love of All” was lost on me, but that’s how good Whitney’s pipes were.  She was a great one.  And Nicki Minaj will have to wait for another opportunity to see if we forgot Missy Elliott, Lady Gaga or Madonna ever existed.              

The Super Bowl.  The biggest day in American sports.  Weeks of analysis and years of preparation go into this thing, just so I can have people over to watch the game and have most of them care way more about the Puppy Bowl.  In order of importance, Super Bowl Sunday went 1) Puppy Bowl, 2) Madonna, 3) Commercials, 4) Actual Game.  Today, Republicans can’t decide whether or not they’re angrier that M.I.A. flipped a camera off during the halftime show or that Clint Eastwood (a Republican who opposed the auto bailout) was in a Chrysler commercial where he pretty much said the auto bailout worked. 

Much like Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction in 2004, I missed M.I.A.’s middle finger.  I was far too busy talking about how “Like a Prayer” is about blow jobs.  But this just officially means Madonna can no longer shock us.  She’s up there with all-male gay cast of Caligula singing about how blowing a dude on your knees is like praying to God and everyone is still focused on a middle finger.  Whose dick do her dancers have to suck to get some attention?  Oh, I guess that answers itself.  That Eastwood commercial was the only one that got rewound at my place during the game.  On the other hand, during the Puppy Bowl (which I recorded at the insistence of nearly everyone who came over), the commercial for Animal Planet’s new show, Too Cute, was rewound at least twenty times.  Granted, everyone was much drunker by the time we watched the Puppy Bowl, but that just means we’re all one step away from becoming Lennie from Of Mice and Men.  And that’s a book I haven’t even read because I’m too distracted by things like shows about puppies.

Football is America’s favorite sport, so kids across across the country probably daydream about scoring the winning touchdown in the 4th quarter of the Super Bowl.  Yesterday, with a minute left in the game, the Giants’ Ahmad Bradshaw got to live that dream.  Except he ran to the goal line uncontested, tried to stop and then his momentum made him fall awkwardly on his butt into end zone, while everyone agreed he probably should have taken a knee.  Not quite a Hollywood ending.  It left too much time on the clock and made the Patriots one healthy Rob Gronkowski ankle away from winning the big game with a Hail Mary.  I was wrong about everything.  The Giants won.  Gronk’s ankle was a big factor.  And Tom Brady couldn’t get the job done in the 4th quarter.

The only real joy I take in the Patriots’ loss is hearing that Brady’s foreign supermodel wife, Gisele Bundchen, incorrectly blamed the Patriots’ receivers for the loss.  And that was after an email leaked where she urged her friends and family to pray for Brady on Sunday.  Patriots fans’ hatred of Gisele will probably override their urges to blame Wes Welker or Dion Branch for dropping passes in the 4th quarter.  And she’s finally crossed all the way over into the Kardashian Succubus category.  She’s “Scary” Sherri without a Macho Man.    

Besides the Puppy Bowl, the real winner is obviously Eli Manning.  It must feel pretty damn good to pass your brother in Indy, while everyone is discussing your legacy, calling you the most clutch quarterback in the NFL and replaying that goddamn amazing 4th quarter pass to Mario Manningham.  I’m almost sorry for calling him the Jim Belushi of sports.  This was like his Mr. Destiny or at least a reasonably-watchable episode of According to Jim.  He might not be the Second Best Manning anymore, but he’s still the 4th most important part of Super Bowl Sunday.                

I’ve been cleaning up my RSS feed to write current events jokes for my show next week (Roast the Week - Wednesday at 10:30 at the Improv Lab) and since the Super Bowl is only hours away, I thought I’d go through the sports stories first.

Super Bowl XLVI is being played between two teams that shouldn’t even be there with two quarterbacks everybody hates.  Even worse, the game is a rematch of the 2008 Super Bowl.  And if anybody wanted to watch a sequel of something shitty from 2008, they would have made The Love Guru Part 2.  Sure, Super Bowl XLII had the David Tyree helmet catch, but The Love Guru also had that one Mariska Hargitay joke I actually thought was funny.  Everybody gets lucky once in a while.  But the Tyree catch and the Plaxico Burress touchdown that followed ruined the 2007 Patriots’ perfect season.  And that means I still have to hear about the 1972 Miami fucking Dolphins.  I’m glad he shot himself in the dick, or whatever he did.        

This matchup is horrible.  Really, the only thing that could have been worse than a Giants-Patriots game would be Ravens-Niners, which is almost what we got.  And it wasn’t the heroics of the Giants or Patriots that led them to victory.  The 2012 Super Bowl is being played between two teams who got into the game because the other teams fucked up.  Kyle Williams of the 49ers (and son of White Sox GM, Kenny Williams) had two key turnovers returning punts in the NFC Championship game.  One led to a Giants touchdown in the 4th quarter and the other led to a game-winning field goal for the Giants in overtime.  That was a good thing for rapper, 50 Cent, who bet $500,000 on the Giants in Vegas.  In the AFC Championship, the Ravens’ kicker, Billy Cundiff, pulled a Ray Finkle and shanked a 32 yarder with 11 seconds left in the game.  His teammates looked stunned on the sidelines as the season slipped away.  And that was right after Lee Evans had a sure touchdown slapped away in the end zone by Sterling Moore.  What a shitty way to blow your season.  And an even shittier way to potentially become the Super Bowl champions.  The only saving grace of that game was that I no longer have to look at Joe Flacco.    

I do however, still have to see Bill Belichick and his goddamn gray hoodie.  Hey Bill, it’s the playoffs.  I’m a slob and I shouldn’t be better-dressed than you are when I’m watching from my living room.  Same with your face, Wes Welker.  And I still have to see Eli Manning, the Jim Belushi of sports, who is one win away from going to the Hall of Fame in the House That His Brother Built.  And I still have to see Tom Brady go for his fourth fucking ring.  Am I really supposed to feel bad that the guy was overshadowed at Michigan on his way to becoming the 199th pick in the 2000 NFL Draft?  Tom Brady leaves models to get with supermodels.  I don’t want to see either quarterback win this game.  But maybe, just maybe, if the game is good enough, people will finally stop talking about Tim Tebow, who is America’s favorite male athlete, despite the fact that nobody actually thinks he’s any good.       

After the game (which the Patriots will win because Rob Gronkowski isn’t really all that hurt and Tom Brady doesn’t suck two games in a row) we can go back to paying attention our favorite Manning, Peyton, as he slowly becomes Walt Kowalski from Gran Torino.  I guess that would  make Andrew Luck that whiny teenage Hmong neighbor kid.  But it’s my analogy, and I can do whatever I want with it.           

 

     
Thank God it’s almost time to start paying attention to basketball again.  And Blake Griffin reminded everyone of that on Monday with his fuck-you dunk on Kendrick Perkins.  Two things about that dunk.  1) The day before, LeBron James literally jumped over the Bulls’ John Lucas to dunk an alley-oop from Dwayne Wade.  I’d only seen that once before (Vince Carter’s 2000 Olympics dunk over 7-2 Frenchman, Frederic Weis).  And Griffin’s dunk was so awesome that it made nobody care anymore.  2) Kendrick Perkins is on the Thunder, a team everybody picked to be a contender in the Western Conference.  The Clippers won the game 112-100.  So like, they might actually be a good team.  Chris Paul’s arrival created Lob City.  They just got Kenyon Martin.  And their fans (bandwagon or not) really believe the team could make it to the Finals.  Think how cute Billy Crystal is going to be!  I’m rooting for the Clippers, racist slumlord owner and all.

The 2012 NBA season seems so wide open that I don’t even know what to talk about yet.  Old, divorced Kobe going bonkers for the Lakers while the Clippers take over Los Angeles?  Figuring out where Dwight Howard is going?  Figuring out if I should care about Ricky Rubio and Kevin Love?  The Bulls?  The Miami Heat?  Bill Simmons said that watching LeBron James and Dwayne Wade play is like watching two signature lead guitarists awkwardly jamming at a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame concert.  We’re going to have to wait and see.    

I’m also going to wait to get into college basketball until the NCAA tournament.  Invite me to be in your bracket pool, because my picks are going to suck.  The only thing that’s really caught my attention so far this season is the Alabama-LSU game, where the ‘Bama fans cheered LSU’s point guard the first time he brought the ball past half court.  That shit was hilarious.                  

 

                
Prince Fielder went to the Tigers, where his dad was also a big fatso first baseman.  In 1996, when Prince was 12, he hit a ball over the fence at old Tiger Stadium.  Maybe heading to Detroit will bring back old memories of eating Coney dogs and his dad asking if he can borrow money.  The Fielder signing means that drunk driving Miguel Cabrera will move to third, which nobody is buying.  But that combo should be fun to watch.  [Cue Prince and Cabrera both saying, “Mmmmm… combos.”]         

With Fielder going to Detroit, Albert Pujols going to the Angels and Ryan Braun serving a 50 day suspension for steroids, the NL Celtral should be a drastically different place.  As a Cubs fan, I always get my hopes up.  But with the possibility of an expanded playoff this year and new GM, Theo Epstein working his nerd magic behind the scenes, I can always dream.  Curt Schilling just predicted that Epstein would bring a World Series title to Chicago in the next 5-10 years.  Damn you, Blood Sock.  I hope you’re right.  Cut to August, where the Cubs are out of contention and I’m cursing Epstein and all of his nerdy goddamned “little details.”  

2012 is also another year I won’t be getting a Floyd Mayweather-Manny Pacquiao fight.  I should just accept that this is never happening.  The only thing I can look forward to now is the 24/7 series for Mayweather’s Cinco de Mayo fight with Miguel Cotto before he goes to jail.  And/or some sort of hilarious repeat altercation with Larry Merchant.                         

            
Finally, former Penn State coach, Joe Paterno, died.  Finally, as in the last thing I’m going to talk about.  Not “Joe Paterno died, finally.”  Although, if it wasn’t for Jerry Sandusky, there’d probably be a decent percentage of Penn State fans who would want a Weekend at Bernie’s-style head coach in the press box for the 2012 season.  If you’re mad at the Penn State board of trustees for firing an 85-year-old man with cancer, then I wouldn’t put it past you.  God bless Joe Paterno, but the guy stuck around for too long.  If your obituary is going to talk about how you played stickball in Brooklyn, it’s time to hang it up.  Plus, you should always retire before your friends start raping kids.  There’s room for mythology.  But there also has to be room for facts.      

  
Paterno’s downfall was crazy.  He was going to retire and then ride off into the sunset.  Then the rug got yanked out from him and he died right after.  It’s like watching a great movie with a really shitty ending.  That’d be like watching the first three Star Wars movies, seeing the Death Star get blown up and watching everyone celebrate… only too very quickly see Han Solo raping an Ewok before they go to credits.  You’d say, “What the fuck was that?”  But it would be too late.   

    
Bill O’Brien will be coming in to coach Penn State next year.  No pressure.  And the Sandusky thing is still being played out.  He recently asked a judge if he could modify the terms of his bail so that he could meet with his grandchildren.  Um, how about NO.  That’d be like John Wilkes Booth asking if he could go to a couple more plays.  If I was one of his grandkids, I’d think it was a pretty goddamn good week to get chickenpox.        

Okay!  That’s all for now.  Let’s get ready for some Super Bowl commercials!      

The Future.  Do you guys remember the future?  It was going to be the amazing.  We were supposed to have flying cars and hover boards and dinners in pill form.  Now all we have is HPV, Apple products and type 2 diabetes.  We stink.  We’re twelve years into the New Millennium and we hadn’t done one goddamn future-y thing.  But last week changed all that.  Mark it down because I’m right.  In January, 2012, we finally entered the Future.

 

Two stories came out in the past week that led me to this conclusion.  One is that, in a Republican Presidential debate - one in which they’re down to the final four serious candidates for the nomination, not some shitty preliminary with the village idiots from the fringes who have no shot whatsoever - a candidate (a serious one) suggested that by 2020, we would have a colony on the moon that could become our 51st state.  That was Newt Gingrich.  The guy who won South Carolina in a landslide.  The guy in second place, nationally.  He wants to get to the moon and start a colony before the Chinese get there first.  He’s serious.  And the topic was taken semi-seriously in return and discussed by Mitt Romney, the guy in first place.  Let me repeat that.  The top two candidates for the Republican nomination talked about the feasibility of a fucking moon colony during a Presidential debate.  It wasn’t just about Reagan and deregulation and homophobia.  They debated a goddamn moon colony.  It’s like scenes from an Alan Moore or Frank Miller comic book in real life, which should be insanity.       

The second story that led me to believe that we’re in the Future was about the U.S. military developing unmanned drone planes… that operate by themselves.  Holy shit.  It’s crazy enough that we currently have ‘desktop pilots’ winging those things around Central Asia and murdering brown people with their joysticks.  Get rid of the human part of the equation and now we’re just going to have robot weapons.  Fucking robots!  We’re going to have robot airplanes and robot tanks and robot submarines that kill human beings.  So let’s say you live on the Horn of Africa.  Now, you have just as good of a chance to get murdered by seafaring pirates as you do by Starscream the Decepticon robot airplane from the Future.  And people are already debating the ethics of killing people with robots vs. killing people with soldiers.  So the same month we’re discussing moon colonies, we’re also building robot weaponry.  This is like the plot of two Schwarzenegger movies rolled into one.  We’re finally in the Early Nineties Schwarzenegger Future.

Just when you thought that 9/11 ended the idea of flying cars and we were never going to see the Back to the Future Part II version of 2015 come to fruition, we’re currently discussing a robot war with China over the rights to moon colonies.  Fuck you.  When I read the second story about the robot drones at my computer, I actually blurted out, “What year is this?”  Then it dawned on me that, oh yeah, it’s 2012.  And this is the way it was always supposed to be.