Polit Tsk Tsk Tsk: Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator

Polit Tsk Tsk Tsk: Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator: "comments"

Shall I legally change my name to Taupe Armageddon Palin?

Hmm.

Dancin' around

I've been following Matt Harding's dance project for a few years now (and I'm pretty sure we talked about t-shirts at some point), and I am loving his newest video:



I actually prefer to watch in high-def. But that's me.

In any case, something about this particular video really seems to be hitting a chord with people I've shown it too, and I'm not tired of watching it yet either. I'm glad that he decided to get people dancing with him this time around; it'll be interesting to see what comes next.

And as a bonus, whenever people think that I have a wacky or cool job I just point them to these videos. He wins.

Suffering succotash!

Saturday was supposed to be a scheduled day. A day to mingle with CafePress Voice members at our offices, then go into San Francisco for a nice dinner. We'd had a great happy hour the night before, but Saturday had a longer and more organized schedule with some work sessions, lunch, and then a nice night of a relaxed dinner and some City sightseeing for the out-of-towners.

The day started out on-schedule - I showed up to the offices at the crack of noon, talked to some Voice folks, had some great interviews and conversations and then left with time to do some errands, head home and get ready to BART into the city.

Things were proceeding as-planned until I hit the 101 freeway onramp at Hillsdale in Foster City. This is an arcing onramp that makes a 180 degree turn onto 101, and everyone was hitting their breaks at the beginning of the curve. I jogged left into the carpool lane (thanks, Prius HOV stickers) and then saw that a car had stopped with the hazards on.

It was then that I realized why she'd stopped: a mother duck and a huge... um, litter? gaggle? collection?... of ducklings had tried to cross the freeway onramp and was now trapped up against the wall with nowhere to go.

On the drop over the wall was a freeway offramp/street. On another side was 101. And up the ramp was E. Hillsdale, which is a busy street on its own. I have no idea where the heck this duck came from or how she came to be in the carpool lane on this onramp, but this was most assuredly not the place for a duck crossing.

Resigned to possibly making myself a bit late for dinner, I stopped the car on the carpool lane shoulder, flicked the hazards on and tried to figure out what to do. The woman who'd already stopped jumped out of her car to divert traffic around us and the ducks.

Fortunately, we were towards the top of the onramp and in very full view of anyone entering the onramp, so it's not like we threw ourselves into the middle of 60 MPH traffic or anything. However, we did have the odd problem of figuring out how to safely collect a Mom duck and her... um, brood?... and then figuring out what the heck to do with them.

The woman was on the phone with 911 and was freaking out, so I figured I'd better get to the business of collecting ducklings. The picture at right is not the ducklings in question, but a good representation of them - though the ducklings in question were a younger and fuzzier than these guys (like the guy below).

So, to sum up:

There were a LOT of ducklings. I counted 13, but a couple were jumping around so there may have been a couple more. And they were wee little fuzzy things and couldn't remotely fly. And Mom was not happy about her situation. And they were all up against the retaining wall on a freeway onramp in imminent danger of being squashed if they decided to bolt.

At this point I figured I'd better try to save the babies first seeing as how Mom probably wouldn't leave them, without getting myself pecked (or whatever ducks do) or leading Mom to fly away or fly into oncoming traffic to her demise, thus leaving me with 13 orphaned ducklings. Which is the last thing I need. Seriously.

I would, at this point, like to thank Whole Foods for providing sturdy paper shopping bags that I keep in my car to re-use when I grocery shop. In addition to providing a good re-usable bag alternative, it turns out that Whole Foods bags are also good for providing quality temporary duckling housing.

So, task 1 was completed: ducklings were safe in the Whole Foods bag, cheeping away and letting Mom know where they were.

Mom, on the other hand, would not come so easily.

Without going into huge detail, let's just say that trying to catch an adult duck who's surrounded by busy streets full of potentially fatal duck traffic is not the easiest thing in the world. Here's what I learned:

1. Don't try to use your gym towel to catch an adult duck. They will fly away from it. You're just too slow.
2. Ditto to your gym bag.
3. Mama ducks *will stay with their ducklings, even when their ducklings are in the footwell of a Prius on a freeway onramp. They'll also follow you around if you carry that bag and try to lure them out of traffic.
4. Baby ducks are sinfully cute and are generally content to hang out in the bottom of a Whole Foods bag. However, there's always those few bastard babies that will try to jump out of the bag (or your hands), so if you're going to try to lure Mom with a single baby in your hand you should choose one of the mellow ones that's hanging out sleeping with some siblings, rather than the jumping cheeping one.
   
5. Ducks won't get into your car willingly. Even if you put their bag o' babies in your footwell. Instead they'll keep running under your car, thus making you look like a complete jackass to oncoming traffic.
6. Ducks don't actually have much in the way of human-harming weaponry. They have bills, not beaks. So the best course of action to catch a duck is to get over the fear of the duck and grab it without hurting it.
7. To grab an adult duck, you probably need more than one person. Try to corner the duck up against a high surface, since ducks can't fly straight up. Then grab the duck (gentle - it's a bird) and hold it close, trying to contain the wings.

#5 and #6 are what happened once the police showed up and got done with screaming at us for blocking traffic.

Now, to be fair, the babies being in a Whole Foods bag in my footwell meant that to all passerbys and the cops it looked like 2 crazy ladies were running around a freeway onramp chasing a duck that can clearly fly away on its own.

However, I'd just spend 45 minutes trying to wrangle a very frantic Mama duck. This had included hopping the retaining wall when she flew over, diverting traffic when she flew into the iceplant onramp median, luring her out of traffic various times with a bag full of babies, and various ridiculous "come here, ducky ducky!" attemps to get her into my car while having horrible images of being the guardian of 13 orphaned ducks who were going to imprint on me and follow me forever. And it was hot. And now I was running late. So getting met with a screeching, red-faced police officer that looked all of 19 years old wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

After cussing at Opie (as this officer will now be known), the other lady took off. My response to this officer also included a big fat curse word, and then I showed him that I had an entire bag full of tiny ducklings. He took a peek in and was met with a view that looked something like this photo, and he then lightened up and told me that I needed to move my car to the bus lane. Which has fine, except that Mom duck was still on the onramp. Which he then solved by making a grab for her, causing her to fly over the retaining wall and into oncoming traffic.

Awesome.

Fortunately, Mom duck then flew out of traffic and onto the sidewalk next to the retaining wall. And we were back to square 1.

After moving the cars (we had 2 squad cars) and taking the babies over to the Mama duck and watching 2 young cops looks at each other and say "What are we supposed to do now?" and convincing them that they really needed to catch Mom so that the babies wouldn't pull a "Fly Away Home" on me, Opie got over his fear of being pecked and managed to grab Mom up against the wall.

After securing her wings we decided that he should probably just get into my car and I'd drive everyone to the park, which was the best place we could think of for the ducks. I mean, her duck husband is presumably in Foster City somewhere (and where was he during this crisis, hmm? Out drinking with the Mallards?) so I didn't want to take her too far away. Plus I don't think Opie was up for a long-distance duck relocation commute, what with having left his squad car in a bus turnout and with an angry Mama duck pecking him and trying to fly out of his arms every few minutes.

It was at this point that I decided to name the duck Matilda. I don't know why, but the sight of a baby-faced rookie cop being pecked by an angry duck just made me go "Matilda, stop trying to attack the officer!" And so it was.

So I put the babies and a duck-wrastlin' cop and Matilda in my Prius, and we headed off to the park with a police escort behind us. I lent the officer my gym towel, since he told me that his "tans" are dry-clean only and we figured Matilda might poop on him out of fear. Or spite. Or both.

And that's how it came to be that the park-hangin' denizens of Foster City were greeted with the assuredly odd sight of a police officer holding an angry, flapping duck (he'd lost his hold on her wings) while being escorted from a Prius by a girl carrying a Whole Foods bag.

He put Matilda down on the lawn, and I scooped the babies up and put them on the lawn and they waddled over to a very relieved Mom. After lecturing Matilda for her poor choice in duck crossings, I left.

And I still thought I could make dinner. Except that when I got home it turned out that one of my dogs had jumped out a window to explore the neighborhood, and our 'hood is also surrounded by busy streets that make a poor dog crossing.

So I then spent the next 90 minutes trying to find a rogue exploring dog, who ended up coming home on his own and wondering what the big deal was. But that's another story. And it's boring.

And that's why I missed dinner with CP Voice. And I really hope that nobody ordered the duck.

Don(u)t trust your stylist...

Dunkin' Donuts caved to blogosphere pressure and pulled a print ad because some right-wing folks (most notably Michelle Malkin) felt that Rachel Ray's scarf was a terrorist fashion statement.

Hmm.

What's odd about this (OK, what's additionally odd about this) is that a keffiyeh generally carries a checkered pattern. I have yet to see a terrorist sporting paisley, but then again I'm not acquainted with many terrorists. I have noticed a big move in fashion this spring toward classic prep, so perhaps the keffiyeh will soon be out in Madras and Seersucker in addition to the apparent trend of paisley. (Is there a Baghdad J. Crew?)

It's worth noting that Rachel is not wearing this scarf on her head, and that the keffiyeh is a male accessory in the first place.

Given the various inconsistencies with this scarf being mistaken for a keffiyeh, I have to wonder what's next to offend. The end flag at the Indy 500? My grandmother's picnic tablecloth? That lady at the gym who walks around with nothing but a towel on her head after a strenuous Spin session?

That Dunkin' Donuts chose to pull this ad is a sad testament to the state of political correctness.

Sometimes a scarf is just a scarf. Really.

The French Connection

I admit it: sometimes I'm amused by SPAM.

It would seem that my work address has somehow gotten onto a list somewhere in a French-speaking nation of Africa, or in France itself. Two seem to be trying to bilk me out of some cash, and one may telling me that I need to be saved by Jesus. (Note to self: in need of salvation.)

I don't speak French, but the first email *seems to be a version of the Nigerian money scam. Which is, seriously, so 1997. The subject line is classic: "Tres important"

Though I don't speak French, I doubt the "important" is a correct translation. I mean, that's the kind of French I do speak. "Mmm, this croissant is tres delicious..."

Um... yeah.

Anyway, here's the first email for everyone's enjoyment, sent from koffihelene08@yahoo.co.jp

MLLE. KOFFI HELENE.

Abidjan - la Côte-d'Ivoire

MmeS/MRS.

Bonjour,

Vœux d'usage à toi . J'espère que tout est bien à l'heure actuelle. Dans une introduction brève je suis MLLE. KOFFI HELENE seul fiLLE de MR. KOFFI STEPHANE de la mémoire bénie, un marchand de Cacao qui, basé a Abidjan et avais une succursale au Ghana (Accra). Mon père était un homme riche / le Marchand de Cacao qui traitait dans quelques pays de l’Europe, d’Amérique et des pays asiatiques.

Selon mon père, ma propre mère est morte quand j'avais environ cinq ans d'âge, qui signifie que je n'ai pas connu ma mère très bien.

mon père M. KOFFI STEPHANE a été empoisonné par ses collègues et il est mort 27/01/2002 dans un hôpital privé ici a Abidjan. Mais quand il était sur le point de mourir, il m'a appelé à côté de son lit, malade et m'a dit qu'il a déposé la somme d'US $ 9.6000 000.00 (Neuf millions, Six cent mille dollar américain) dans une société de sécurité ici a Abidjan la capitale de la Côte-d'Ivoire.

le seul problème est que mon père ma demander de trouver un associé étranger qui m'aidera à récupérer le colis de la société de sécurité ici en Côte-d'Ivoire .

je souhaitent humblement avoir des contacts pour transférer ses fonds à votre compte.

et chercher également ton aide honnête et digne de confiance a m'aide à déplacer cet argent là-bas avant qu'on le dicte dehors et bloqué par la mère du régime.

Maintenant, voici ce se que je veux réellement que tu fasses pour moi:

1. Je veux que tu sois présentés à la société de sécurité comme le c o _ bénéficiaire désigné de cet argent, avec votre nom car on ne nous permet pas de récupère se argent a cause de notre statue scolaire car je suis une etudiante .

2. Pour m'aider finalement en adaptant et en contrôlant cet argent dans toutes affaires lucratives dans ton pays . Stp, j'espère que tu accorderas et regarderas ceci avec la faveur et beaucoup de compréhension de notre situation .

3. tu seras une personne très honnête et digne de confiance de s'occuper considérant également la nature confidentielle de cette demande, je souligne STP d'avoir quelqu'un de confiance pour me transfère ce argent dans sont compte et me faire venir pour sont pourcentage et m'aider dans tout investissement.

4 . pour ton aide, je te cédera 20 % de cet argent pour ton efforts.

s'il te plaît cette transaction est strictement confidentielle.

Merci et que Dieu te benisse pour ton aide.

Les Meilleurs souvenirs,

KOFFI HELENE.

OK, really? The Nigerian money scam is still around? Good God, it's going to last longer than an actual can of SPAM. And that's saying something.

I do wonder what people hope to get out of this DM approach. Are they actually experiencing a 1-2% response rate on this ridiculous con? I can't imagine so, but then again... who knows?

I do wonder if there's a counter-con out there. I should go look that up.

The next email was a lot more direct. And I'm thinking - good for you, email. Why waste time with some fake big introduction, when anyone dumb enough to believe it is probably dumb enough to just give you their info without the bells and whistles?

Sent from my pal rebeccasoro4@yahoo.fr, this one was entitled "Mrs Rebecca,,":

Attn:

Mrs Rebecca Soro is my name from Ivory Coast in west Africa here a Personal Secretary to Engineer Colins Koffi of Chaveron oil companies Bassam city.

I here by attempt to reach you via your internet email regarding the transfer of a consignment of money worth of ($10.5 million) But note;that this is a company deal hope you will be intrested ?.

If my proposal could be accepted kindly forward your full contact informations for more trust to proceed.

[1] Name: _______________________________
[2] Address: _____________________________
[3] Age: _________________________________
[4] Sex: _________________________________
[5] Telephone: ____________________________
[6] Fax: _________________________________
[7] Occupation status: _____________________
[8] International passport: __________________
[9] Indentification card: ____________________

Please get back to me to enable us discuss further, I hope to hear from you in no distant time

Here my latinmail Email box. rebeccasoro@latinmail.com

Best regards
Mrs Rebecca Soro.

Nice. And lastly, we have what I think is a concerned French citizen trying to save my immortal soul. It seems that it will cost me $2500 to save my soul, which is a pretty good deal if you compare it to Mormon tithing (10% of the paycheck) or donating enough to be able to annul a marriage after 25 years (go Kennedy family).

So thank you, cynthiaobodo51@yahoo.com, for this bargain opportunity for eternal salvation. The subject line was "Cher Amis en Christ":

Cher Amis en Christ,

Je vous salue au nom de notre seigneur Jésus Christ, nous devons adorer notre seigneur Jésus Christ avec tout notre cœur parce que nous sommes destinés â rester sous la protection de son onction, l’obéissance à ses commandements est le but de la vie, qui l'honore sera gardé sous sa main de bénédiction.

Je suis Mme Cynthia Obodo organisation du Koweït. Je suis mariée à M.James Obodo qui a travaillé à l'ambassade du Koweït en Côte d'Ivoire pendant neuf ans avant qu'il ne décède dans l’année 2006. Nous avons été mariés pendant onze années sans enfant. Il est mort après une brusque maladie qui a duré seulement quatre jours .

Avant sa mort nous étions tous les deux chrétiens et nous aimions l’un et l’autre, c’est pourquoi après sa mort j'ai décidé de ne pas remarier ou avoir un enfant en dehors de ma maison matrimoniale parce que la bible est contre cela. Quant mon défunt mari était vivant il avait déposé la somme de ($2.500 000.) deux millions cinq cents mille de Dollars Américain dans une Bank ici a Abidjan en Côte d'Ivoire . Actuellement, cet argent est toujours au sein de la société.

Récemment, mon docteur m'a dit que je ne vais pas vivre plus de huit mois à cause d’un cancer. Ce qui me dérange plus que le cancer dont je suis atteinte est l’angoisse au sujet de la récupération et du re-investissement des biens de feu mon époux. Après avoir su mon état de santé j'ai décidé de donner ces fonds à une organisation de charité qui utilisera cet argent de la manière que je vais indiquer ci-dessous. Je veux créer une organisation qui emploiera ces fonds pour créer des orphelinats, écoles et églises, s’occuper des veuves, propager la parole de Dieu et faire en sorte que la maison de Dieu soit maintenue. La bible nous a enseigné de comprendre que " bénie est la main qui donne " . J’ai prise cette décision parce que je n'ai aucun enfant qui héritera de cet argent et les parents de mon mari ne sont pas des chrétiens, je ne veux pas que les efforts de mon mari soient dilapidés par des non-croyants.

Je ne veux pas une que cet argent soit employé dans un chemin diabolique. C'est pourquoi je prends cette décision. Je n'ai pas peur de la mort par conséquent je sais où je vais. Je sais que je vais être dans le cœur du seigneur jésus christ.

Exodes 14 a 14 a dit que " le seigneur défendra ma cause et j’obtiendra ma paix ". Je ne souhaite aucune communication téléphonique sur ce sujet en raison de ma santé et à cause de la présence des parents de mon mari autour de moi.

Je ne veux pas qu'ils sachent ce que je fait Avec Dieu tout es possible. Dès que je recevrai votre réponse je vous donnerai le contact de la société ici à Abidjan en Côte d'Ivoire. Je vous enverrai également une lettre d’autorisatio qui vous fondera en tant que bénéficiaire actuel de ces fonds. Je veux que vous et les membres de votre église priez toujours pour moi parce que le seigneur est mon berger et je ne manquerai de rien . Mon bonheur est que j'ai vécu une vie digne et chrétienne. Celui qui veut servir le seigneur doit le servir dans l'esprit de la vérité.

Veuillez toujours prier pour votre salut en retardant votre réponse vous m’obligerez à contacter une autre église ou une autre personne de confiance dans ce même but.

Veuillez m'assurer que vous agirez en respectant les consigne que j'ai énuméré ci-dessus.J’espérerai recevoir votre réponse très bientôt . Soyez béni par jésus .

Vôtre soeur en Christ,
Mme Cynthia Obodo.

I do wonder why so many SPAM emails use yahoo addresses. What's up with that? I could just block all AOL and yahoo addresses and literally omit like 90% of my SPAM in all email accounts.

Hmm. I dunno what's going on, but I most certainly do not feel an overwhelming desire to wire money to anyone in Africa. Or go to Mass, for that matter.

I do kind of want a crepe now though. Mmm. Tres delicious.

Helpful how-to

I generally tune out the various boxes on my Google homepage, but this one caught my attention:

How to Make Dandelion Wine

It caught my attention for a few reasons:

1) I've never heard of Dandelion Wine.
2) I like wine.
3) I like making things myself
4) "Dandelion Wine" itself sounds nice.

I like phrases that sound like band names or songs, and Dandelion Wine is right up there with Dummy Gladhands as "An actual word used in the world out there that would make a kickass band or song name."

Will Dandelion Wine be Dummy Gladhands' first smash hit?

Time will tell.

The Hook of Mormon

Someone just knocked on my front door, and it turned out to be two young guys from the The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I didn't realize that Mormons are still going door-to-door, but there they were. I live in Oakland, and it's not every day that you see two guys in starched white shirts, black pants and ties and nametags on your front porch. The last uninvited guest on the front porch was a local ne'er do well trying to bribe the dogs entry with some hot dogs through the front window I'd accidentally left open, so as you might imagine I was somewhat surprised to see these guys.

I did restrain myself from asking about the magic underwear. I reserve that question and all "Big Love" questions for a Mormon friends. OK, one Mormon friend who puts up with these types of questions.

Now, I'm a fan of "Big Love" (and having watched the show, I even know that polygamists are shunned by the true "LDS" members). I'm also a fan of discussing religion. But I'm not really a fan of people trying to walk into my house uninvited to discuss it, particularly when I have a nasty cold and am sitting around in pajama pants.

This got me to thinking that this must be the most time-consuming Direct Marketing approach ever. On the plus side, it's cheap - I assume these guys are volunteers, and those outfits don't strike me as terribly expensive. I wonder if their bikes are covered...

And then I wondered whether, with so much advertising and SPAM and general Marketing clutter, perhaps the old-fashioned approach is indeed more effective.

Last time I checked, a DM snail mail piece usually generates a 1-2% response rate. I have to wonder whether the personal touch is doing better for the Mormons; and to be fair, I don't know that we should count "conversion" as an actual religious conversion, since it's a much harder sell than a dishwashing soap sale or something. Then again, eternal salvation is a good hook - especially since you get to hang with your family.

So I guess I'm interested in both open rate (i.e. opening the door and letting these guys in) and conversion rate.

If there are any Mormons out there with the answer, please do share.

Happy St. Pat's

I'm in Washington
The weather: freakishly nice
I love this city

Met some Shopkeepers
I love talking to these guys
Yay for all y'all

Saw the Hope Diamond
I was slightly underwhelmed
Might have been the crowd

Please don't shove me, kid
The diamond will still be here
If you wait your turn

I like museums
I don't like rude pushy folk
Can't we all just chill?

Some freaking jackhole
Is smoking in the next room
My room's an ashtray

We went to the zoo
The sloth bear was really cool
Gorilla: awesome

Animals are rad
The pandra ate some bamboo
That is one cute bear

It reeks in here now
Non-smoking floor? I guess not
My neighbors are tools

Loud smokers are fun
When you're at a party, or
When you're one of them

Somehow I'll survive
Tonight I ate good sushi
It's St. Patrick's Day

Irish/Japanese
They are two different cultures
But we combined them

Why not eat sushi
To celebrate St. Patrick's?
It's a new age, friends

Now, it's time for bed
Sweet tobacco aroma
Must make for weird dreams

I guess we'll find out
If I have some bad nightmares
I'll blame my neighbors

Not to sound like a
Public service announcement
But seriously

Don't be a douchebag
Smoking in a hotel room
Is an asshole move

The nonsmokers here
Might have some breathing issues
Go outside, lazy

Goodnight, everyone
And a happy St. Pat's Day
Sláinte/Salute

Lost in translation

I'm a huge "Lost" fan. (Warning 1: if you didn't watch the 3/14 "Ji Yeon" broadcast yet, don't read this post.)

This post is going to be about being incredibly disappointed in the writing for the 3/14 broadcast, and the fact that I'm taking the time out of a Sunday morning to complain to the world about a "Lost" plotline means that my own disappointment has caused buzz that, at the end of the day, just helps illustrate the incredible hold this show has over its fans. So congratulations, "Lost" - you win. I'm hooked, and now I'm going to bitch a little. (Warning 2: to get to the actual bitching about this episode without my expository ramblings, skip to the bold text.)

Admittedly, I came onto the "Lost" bandwagon late - I didn't really need another T.V. show to watch, I like cable shows better than network these days ("Dexter" and "Weeds" and "Big Love" are already a commitment, though spotty production/air schedules do free up some time), I was sick of everyone talking about it, T.V. shows are crap these days, how good could it be, etc. - basically, I didn't buy the hype.

So I ignored "Lost" buzz for 2 years, until finally I figured that borrowing a DVD of Season 1 would be a good idea.

Oh. My. God.

I haven't been that immediately grabbed by a show since the first Season of "24." Even with Season 2 being a little boring at the beginning, it was still a helluva lot better than anything else on network television, and these days I laugh about being so frustrated at not knowing answers to the simple questions like "What' s in the hatch?" considering that every time an easy question gets answered we have about 10 more complicated ones. At this point, some of the questions (in no particular order) still bothering the heck out of me are:

1) Where's Walto? And does he have magical powers? And what are they?
2) Was Jin the one in the coffin at the beginning of the season, how and where did he die, and is he counted among the Oceanic 6? And what does his headstone say? I can't read Korean.
3) What happened to Claire, was it Jack's fault, and is that why he doesn't want to see Aaron?
4) Um.. timeline, please. Hurley's in the bin, then he's in Korea, Jack's drunk and a mess and then not and meeting a coffin... ?
5) Who in the HOLY HELL is Benjamin Linus?
6) Mr. Whitmore: good or evil?
7) Um... where are The Others + The Oceanic Others? They didn't all die, so one would assume that they're hanging out on the Island somewhere. Or are they? And where are the rest of the Non-Listed Oceanic survivors?
8) Is Michael still a complete douchebag or is he doing something for the greater good? And did he ever actually get off the Island and onto dry land, or did he boat-hop? And why is he working for Ben?
9) Who/what is Jacob? And did he make "The List?"

Since I like odd numbers and snuck multiple questions and have so many more that this list is now a digression from the original intent of this post (which is to bitch about the 3/14 storyline), I'll stop now.

OK. So the point of the above is to illustrate the following as a backdrop for my intended post subject. To sum up:

1) I'm a bit of a "Lost" fanatic, making me the ideal instrument of buzz/evangelism.
2) There are a lot of confusions, questions and surprises that the show continues to throw at its fans.
3) This show has done an excellent job of being buzzworthy solely because it's different, the writing is phenomenal (usually), every episode opens up a ton of new speculations and questions (which gets people talking), and they've rewarded their most rampant fans with little hints in the show, online sillies and other fun things. Yay for "Lost."

In the case of this episode, there was a very clever and fair buzzworthy move: the close-up of Jin's tombstone revealed some numbers and a lot of writing in Korean, and clearly many fans don't speak Korean and will therefore need to seek out some translation - most likely from their Korean friends or the Internet. Nice job on starting that conversation, writers.

But here's the thing: overall, the 3/14 broadcast was a cheap shot at the expense of the audience and violated a basic trust that we have with "Lost." Here's why:

The flashback interspersed with the flash-forward was, on its surface, a clever move. We see Jin in the past running around trying to buy a panda bear and get to the maternity ward, and we're seeing a flash-forward of Sun in the hospital about to deliver.

Ostensibly, the segments are interspersed to let us know that Jin is on the way to meet Sun. I did wonder why Jin was so dickish and angry, and when you realize that this is Old Jin Working For Sun's Dad as opposed to Kindler, Gentler Post-Crash Jin it makes sense.

So yes, "Lost" writers got me. I thought Jin was alive right up until Hurley said "Then let's go see him," at which point I realized I'd been had.

And here's the thing: we'd really been had, and not in a good way.

The crux of "Lost" flashback-and-forward success is an implicit promise that these segments are:

1) True
2) Relevant

In the case of this episode we assume that that flashback really happened, but the entire segment was completely irrelevant. Up to this point, all "Lost" flashbacks/forwards have been relevant to either providing some important character/plot development/backstory, and/or to move the story forward.

This particular sequence failed miserably at the latter. Watching Jin run around as Mr. Paik's errand boy doesn't tell us anything we don't already know. We're already well aware that Kind Poor Fisherman Jin became Mr. Paik's bitch boy, which changed his own outlook on life and drained the kindness out of him. This isn't news, and unless something spectacular happens between China and Mr. Paik that affects a future "Lost" plotline this entire sequence was a cheap way to fool the audience. (And even if it does happen, it was still kind of a lame stunt.)

So: shame on you, "Lost" writers. I know you had a writer's strike and that it was a mad rush to get some of these episodes out, but surely somebody must have realized that fooling your fans for the sake of it violates the spirit of trust that you've established with us.

On the flipside, the writers have managed to take up 30 minutes of this fan's time and engender a reaction that will encourage discussion and debate with various people. I don't normally participate in "Lost" chatter, so I do find it somewhat ironic and amusing that I've become a buzz source this week due to my complete irritation at lazy writing.

So: Lost writers, I guess I do need to acknowledge that sometimes, annoyance is what propels a good conversation - and when the annoyance stems out of an arguably unhealthy attachment to the greater good of something awesome (in this case, the integrity of "Lost" as a whole), I suppose that you have inadvertently done your job.

But don't do it again. Seriously. We expect better.

But was she a Spitzer or a swallower?

[insert obligatory groans here]

I know, I know. But seriously. Someone had to ask. And since someone had to ask, someone had to make a ridiculous Spitzer t-shirt.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, go to CNN and check out the latest on NY Governor Elliot Spitzer and his high-priced stress relief.

This is the kind of controversy that just asks for merch. The formula is so simple:

Political figure + scandal = funny T-shirt.

Dick Cheney shooting his friend in the face was a big hit with the CafePress crowd; this story is even better given that hookers are a lot sexier than Dick Cheney or his hunting buddies (even when he's wearing a jaunty orange cap), and that New Yorkers are an outspoken bunch to begin with.

The "Falling from grace" story is always a big headline with the American public; we just loooooove to see people fall on their faces, don't we? It's perhaps not an admission we like to make, but it's true. Watching people fall down in real life is funny, as long as they're not seriously injured; watching people fall down metaphorically is downright fascinating for the American populace.

And where there's fascination *and outrage, there's a shirt in the making.

(Well, if you're me you'll default to the thong...)

Drink, Drink and Be Merry

With St. Pat's coming up, I was looking through the CafePress system today to see what our Shopkeepers had come up with this year.

What I found wasn't too surprising: 66,000 designs with the St. Patrick's Day tag, meaning that anyone looking for a St. Patrick's Day t-shirt is going to find something amusing.

What *did surprise me was the crossover between politics and St. Pat's...



Now I'm no politician, but I don't quite understand what this shirt has to do with politics *or St. Patrick's Day. Unless Barack Obama changes the spelling of his name to Barach O'Bama... (Hmm. Maybe that's not such a bad idea; perhaps such a change might prevent uninspired people from leaking photos in the name of the new all-American political pastime, fearmongering.)

Digression: a Haiku

The press must be bored
To pay this much mind to an
Old scrabook photo

In any case, after sifting through a lot of t-shirts for awhile and reflecting on the ever-amusing Alabama Leprechaun story, I began to reflect on the reasons behind booming T-shirt sales around what is traditionally a drinking holiday.

So, here's Leslie's Random Thoughts About St. Patrick's Day T-shirts. (Caveat: it's unlikely that these reflections will help you sell more t-shirts, but anything's possible):

1) St. Patrick's Day is about excess and celebration, and nothing says "excess" like a silly T-shirt to be worn on a day to celebrate the almighty party.

2) St. Patrick's Day is also about drinking, and (as per #1) drinking to excess is the order of the day. And since drinking a lot tends to lead to spills and falling down and occasionally losing clothing entirely and - when things go horribly wrong - projectile bodily fluids (note to self: avoid a shot called an "Irish car bomb," which can most definitely lead to things going horribly wrong), and a random T-shirt that says "Fight Me - I'm Irish!" doesn't look out of place with beer spilled down the front, it only seems natural that ordering a special T-shirt in preparation for this day makes some sort of logical sense.

In short: this is a day where a T-shirt can be disposable.

3) St. Patrick's Day celebrations, being heavily themed around drinking, tend to take place in bars. In bars, people tend to congregate in the hopes that they might attract a member of the opposite sex. Since we've already established that a themed St. Pat's T-shirt is a celebratory and practical thing to wear on this day, it makes sense that one might find a clever St. Pat's T-shirt in order to serve as an icebreaker. This saves everyone the trouble of that awkward "Do you come here often?" and can allow for entrance into a conversation about the shirt itself.

4) Being pinched is annoying. At the very least, you can spend $2 and order a button and avoid being descended upon by irritating friend and coworkers. (I know, that's not about T-shirts - but same principle, I'm just mentioning buttons for any thrifty folks out there who bruise easily.)

Anyway, I don't know that any of these insights are earth-shattering, but I do know that I am now somewhat motivated to order myself a T-shirt for this special day.

This, by virtue of combining politics and St. Pat's in a way that I can still understand after a few pints of Guinness, is my pick this year:

Buzz Cowboy FAQ

A haiku:

I like FAQ's
Let's get them out of the way
So we might move on

Q) What is this blog about?
A) This blog is about my general observations on life, the public discourse, and being noisy. Since I've been in the Marketing Department at CafePress since 2003 (and therefore have far too many t-shirts), chances are that I'll mention my general observations about Marketing, Buzz Marketing and its crossover into the online space, CafePress, and having far too many t-shirts.

I'll probably also mention my dogs because they wouldn't have it otherwise, and because I'm a VP of Bad Rap, and because everyone loves to talk about pit bulls. Well, maybe not everyone - and definitely not the right people, so I guess I'll talk about the dogs since, you know, I actually own them. (Many people who like to talk talk talk about pit bulls have never spent much time with or even met one at all.)

I might also mention food. Because I love food. I especially love good food (not necessarily expensive food - just good food), and am at present working on eating my way from one end of Telegraph Avenue to the other. Since food can arguably be a form of self-expression and since CafePress is all about one's fervent interests, I may work in a food column now and again.

Q) What's up with the haiku?
A) I like bad haiku
I don't know why I write them
But I just can't stop

Q) Why "Buzz Cowboy?"
A) BuzzMonkey sounded too much like a band.

Q) No, seriously.
A) Seriously. Also, the domain name was taken.

Q) So "Buzz Cowboy" doesn't mean anything?
A) I suppose it's something like a bumbling superhero who talks too much and a chaps-clad outlaw pioneering a new frontier and kicking up some dust.

Enjoy the blog.