Respect Authority

Planning to hit up Burger King, right after wrestling practice.

Queens Councilman Eric Gioia is proposing that new fast-food restaurants be prohibited within a tenth of a mile of existing schools — which in New York City geography might as well be five miles — a reaction to unsurprising study data showing young teenagers tend to be fatter when there are fast-food restaurants within one block of their school. The suggestion comes on top of new regulations limiting the sugar content of drinks sold in schools, which put the kibosh on soda and juice sales earlier this month. 

Though the study results themselves have caused no small amount of ire — restaurant advocates argue that the survey doesn’t establish cause-and-effect, nor does it take into account that fast-food eateries offer more than just cheesebrugers — I have no problem accepting that teens educated within a block of a McDonald’s will go there, and often. There was a brief period in my own high schools days where “lunch” meant Twix and Mountain Dew, until some equally invasive rule-making in Maryland public schools left vending machines turned off until after fifth period. 

Rather, this proposal irks me on principle. It’s certainly necessary to acknowledge the “if you build it, they will come” mentality that dictates many a young teen’s food choices, but it is no way necessary to cater to it. By taking away kids’ opportunity to make a consciously intelligent decision with respect to food, we’re doing nothing to encouarge that kind of decision-making in other walks of life — say, after they leave this kind of regulated eating environment. 

Nor is fast-food really the root of the problem. I’ve stood in a bodega at 8 a.m. with my coffee and newspapers and watched people of all ages buy candy, soda and chips for breakfast. At no time of the day or night have I seen either the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut combo store, or the Crown Fried Chicken near my apartment, devoid of customers. The bottom line is that junk food tastes fairly incredible, and unless the long-term effects of poor eating can be impressed upon people at a young age — and in an educational, rather than passive-aggressive way — we stand virtually no chance of eradicating obesity in this country. For every variation on the “make your own salad” eatery, there will be five McDonald’s, but more importantly - they will always sell ice cream at the grocery store, or candy at the bodega, or bacon bits right next to the eight choices of lettuce. There will always be a way to eat shitty food, and as long as there is - and unless we really and truly know better - we’ll always do it.

So we’ve all been waiting, and now it’s finally finally here. Indeed, the trial for Tyra Banks’ homeless stalker is underway!

This Georgia native apparently sent flowers and cards, along with a phone number at which he might be reached, to the set of Tyra’s show. Although his lawyer claims he was litle more than an overzealous fan with aspirations of being on the show (in audience or guest form), Tyra felt threatened by said stalker’s claims that they knew one another, had had or were in the midst of a relationship, and would likely marry and have children. You know, normal fan stuff.

What’s great about this entire story is that based on everything I’ve ever seen or heard from Tyra Banks (in the interest of full disclosure, I’ll clarify that about 75% of this knowledge is gleaned from choice clips played on The Soup), the idea of NOT being wanted, loved and obsessed over 24 hours a day is anathema to the self-obsessed supermodel. Nor would I begrudge any Tyra fan the misconception that she would love nothing more than a steady stream of flowers, notes, and proclamations of adoration. But I guess assuming she would drop everything and indulge the fantasies of a deranged fanatic is a bit too idealistic - a little like Tracy Morgan’s erstwhile Woodrow SNL character, who lured lovely celebrities into his sewer home to serenade them with nonsensical love songs.

I’m also frankly a little surprised that Tyra Banks is finding herself stalked these days. Although she’s unquestionably attactive, in another decade, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her looking pretty average, and with a forehead-to-hair ratio of 90/10.

At least he didn’t kill anyone in her name. I’m pretty sure that would make me give up on America altogether.

Okay, this is getting out of control. No… it’s gotten out of control. We should have never allowed this to happen, hell, to encourage it. So yes, we deserve this… just as we will deserve getting our brains bored out by android gray matter collectors.

To be clear, I’m speaking about the ol’ FB. Indeed, last night, my helpful news feed alerted me as to this… development. This was someone’s real, actual status update. For all to see. For FB to remember forever.

Additionally, certain sections of the following text will be in bold type; this is because they made me cringe and thank skateboarding and sex for finding me before it ever got this bad.

1) I feel that Final Fantasy X is the best game overall in that they have seven well-developed characters and a battle system designed well enough to need all of them. Whereas in other games of the series I would stick with one primary party, the dynamic “hot-swap” was both necessary and pleasing. The story is the game’s largest asset, hardly breaking from the serious, morbid nature while maintaining great instances of foreshadowing. This also has one of the few final bosses that I actually lost against initially. I would also say that this has the second best ending I’ve ever seen. Finally, this is one of the few RPGs I’ve seen recently where the antagonist is introduced early and often, allowing the story to develop it well.

2) Chrono Cross is one of the few games with branching stories, with two moments in the game where you can choose 3 or 3 paths, respectively. Characters are a weakness and strength, as the characters they choose to develop are great and conflicted yet there are too many Suikoden-like fill-ins. Other strengths for the game include the secret way to beat it (can’t say any more than that) and the extended concert scene, which demonstrates that an RPG is about more than battling.

3) The game that single-handledly saved the genre, Final Fantasy VII had a great story, great characters and one of the most scarring moments of my life. This used to be #1 for a long time, but it earns penalty points for introducing the frequent minigames habit that would ruin the series for several games (and perhaps still does). To many, including myself, VIncent is the best optional character in any RPG. The soundtrack is both famous and outstanding, which really enhances the mood of several scenes. This game has held up well over time, despite the confusion that Cloud’s past has created

4) Tales of Symphonia has my favorite optional scene ever, one which dramatically changes the perception of a main character and gives new understanding to several scenes of intrigue that occurred previously

Dude knows his video games, that’s fo’ sho’. And don’t worry man, I lost initially to the boss in FFX too - NOT PLEASING.

(Medicinal) marijuana is good for a few things - none the least of which is creativity. Um… not that I would know. Maybe I missed Lost or whatever’s on, but making art (is that pretentious?) is really not that bad of a way to spend a Thursday night. So yeah… turns out weed’s not just for eating lots of Cheez Its and vegging out to the iTunes visualizer after all. …Or so I heard.

Jamal Al-Sparrow in an undated photo.

In our modern world, there are three types of pirates: Disney pirates, everyone who’s ever downloaded anything “illegally”, and Somalians in boats with guns. The latter is generally considered to be more menacing than the first two — but no more?

According to an article from The San Francisco Bay View (hippies), some Somalian pirates are following in the subversive footsteps of all the noble pirates before them — standing up to oppressive imperial navies of the 21st century. Alright, I’ll bite.

If you’re like me, as I suspect you are, Black Hawk Down is your only background source on Somalian affairs. Therefore, it seemed totally logical that the rampant, amphetamine fueled thuggery would eventually spill over into the high seas (or space… I can’t wait for space pirates). But apparently, our assumption is misguided! The failed state of Somalia has been unable to protect its waters from greedy Europeans that have been stealing all their fish and then dumping toxic waste off their shores! Piracy is now the only recourse for Somalians trying to fight back against Imperial powers and eke out a living for their miserable, starving, irradiated population.

Maybe in a hundred years or so, Disney World Dubai will have a Pirates of the Indian Ocean ride and movie franchise with Obama’s great grandson playing the lovable and harmless Somalian pirate — Jamal Al-Sparrow.

So here’s a shocker: pirates are fairly badass.

Less than a week after the U.S. gave itself a massive pat on the back for thwarting Somalian pirates’ efforts to kidnap but one American citizen, those damn scallwags are at it again. NATO said Tuesday that Somali pirates have hijacked another cargo ship in the Gulf of Aden, their fourth ship in the last two days. If anything, our heroic efforts seem to have yielded little more than a case of Pirate’s Revenge — which, consequently, also sounds like an excellent name for a barbecue sauce. 

In fact, despite the fact that no less than five Somali pirates have been killed by recent efforts to quell the pillaging and plundering, the group of bandits are undeterred, saying little except that they plan to retaliate for the assassination of their colleagues. 

Perhaps more significant than the day-to-day developments in the pirate world is the nation’s sudden preoccupation with pirate goings-on. Although piracy appears to have been the Somalian pastime of choice (or perhaps national career) for years upon years, only recently has America woken up with a sort of bleary-eyed declaration of “Wha? Pirates?” — basically as soon as they started kidnapping our bearded sea captains. 

The real question is where this all ends - we’ve seen from countless media depictions — and most recently a series of highly produced Johnny Depp films — that piracy is no joke: it tends to start with floppy hats and end with giant squids and half-man/half-ocean people in ships that can disappear into the ocean. I’d say the odds are against us.

The hoopla concerning the “name change” of 1WTC was a reminder that, fuck me, they’re really redeveloping the World Trade Center site. For nearly a decade anyone living or working south of Chambers has had to put up with closed streets, cranes, dump trucks, and smelly construction workers bogarting deli lines with little more than a well-organized hole in the ground to show for it.  But by 2012 (hopefully), the pain will be over.

When it was first revealed, 1WTC’s design failed to make a real impression (at least Daniel Libsekind’s piece of shit allowed me to hate it). The “Freedom Tower” branding was woefully uninspired and the symbolic height of 1,776 feet - retarded. The entire project reeked of sloppy politics. 

But as early as September 11, 2008, rumors were spreading that the “Freedom Tower” name was falling out of favor among the developers. With Pataki gone, Rudy diminished (to put it diplomatically) and the Bush Administration tarred and feathered (also a diplomatic euphemism) - the professionals were left to their own devices. The public announcement two weeks ago that the “Freedom Tower” brand has been cast aside was really an official announcement that the project is out of the hands of bumbling politicians and vision-less real estate magnates and in the control of the some of the best designers and engineers in the world. Trust me, it shows. Read More ›

Fuck the catchy songs.

Getting a song stuck in one’s head is an interesting phenomenon, as it does not necessarily depend on the song being technically good. I mean, remember Bubba Sparxxx? Yeesh. Or better yet, “Hollaback Girl” — that shit was auditory terrorism.

That said, having a predilection for hip hop, you find yourself often at the mercy of a pretty retarded song with a savagely infectious beat. Specifically, I have most recently been bitten by UGK’s newest release, UGK 4 Life. I mean… the title kind of says it all already. Like, I seriously think this shit might be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t beefin’ with nobody. Pimp C and Bun B are talented as hell and UGK very well could be the best Southern rap has to offer. The beats are a veritable bouquet of organs, guitars, bass and other live instruments, pleasantly reminiscent of a time when hip hop’s heavy use of funk samples gave it a little more soul than Kanye’s GarageBand experiments. Nonetheless, the lyrics are… well, they’re typical of the Dirty.

The most sinisterly catchy song on the album features, of course, Akon on the hook. Despite the fact that the song’s instrumentation is fantastic, and Pimp C and Bun B’s verses are hot fire, I’m really beginning to remember why “The Sweet Escape” was so god damned annoying. It’s really hard to concede to the dark power of a chorus like this:

That girl she got me, the way she movin’ in place
Bendin’ over, spreadin’ eagle, all that ass in my face
She got me hard as hell
Got me pokin’ like a nail
She got me hard as hell
I can’t control it, can’t you tell baby?

In fact, why not just listen to it? You know I be havin’ that hook up.

Yeah, just try singing that to the delight of a packed Brooklyn train car. I can’t wait. But by all means, get the album. I love it, and I’m pretty sure it’s turning me into a misogynist — but after all, misery loves company.

Ron Isley’s on a track, does that help?

Being that my ankle is currently about twice the size it’s supposed to be, and the rest of my legs look to be afflicted by some kind of flesh eating disease, and, uh, because I have a job and spend my days chained to a computer, skateboarding is limited to sweet day dreams and rough doodles at the moment. Oh, and also to YouTube. Actually, mostly just YouTube.

In fact, I would go so far as to say that the huge changes skateboarding media has undergone in recent years is one of my favorite consequences of the Internet. Probably even more than all the free porn! I know — there’s a reason your mom told you to avoid those loitering, glossy-eyed skateboarding burnouts… they’re just not normal. Then again, it could have also just been all the drugs, trespassing, and lack of a regular shower schedule. One or the other, that’s for sure.

Getting a new 411vm (RIP VHS, you my dogg forever) every month and poring over every magazine’s 5 pages of actual content buried amongst the ads used to be as close as your average skaterboi could get to the latest in the wild world of professional skateboarding and that heavenly dreamland called California. Thanks to the World Wide Web, we now probably know all too much about pro skater’s lives, with a slew of web sites and video series constantly carving out new frontiers in skate media. Wasting time has never been easier.

This week’s spawn has been particularly enjoyable. Here are some choice picks for the lazy, the injured, the stoned, and the skateboarders out there who aren’t some combination of lazy, injured, or stoned. Do you even exist? Do you moonlight as Sasquatch? Read More ›

Well I never!

First they taunt us with ironically entertaining but completely brainwashing D.A.R.E sessions, then they infiltrate our televisions with endless public service announcements. They even put a damper on our ability to drive through a McDonald’s high without double-checking for pigtail-wearing girls on tricycles. And I hate doing that! 

And now, of all the things, they’re trying to steal our day. Indeed, some anti-drug advocates are using April 20 — according to the Wall Street Journal, a day when “marijuana smokers around the country light up for an unofficial holiday celebrating pot that stems from smoker slang ‘420;’ thank you WSJ, bastion of all that is hip and knowing — to start a movement against pot that cites not only health and legal reasons, but moral ones. American pot smokers, the North Coastal Prevention Coalition claims, are unwittingly supporting drug cartels in Mexico. 

Five years ago, this sort of holier-than-thou attitude would have gotten any coalition a series of puzzled looks. “What’s a cartel? What’s Mexico?” but these days it’s become increasingly difficult to ignore story after story on the escalating violence across the border, the vast majority of it stemming from Mexico’s biggest industry: las drogas. Read More ›