Respect Authority

I knew this day would come. With all the mud slinging that goes on in the world of politics, the nation’s obsession with obesity, and the undeniable stigma of being a fat anything these days—doctor, teacher, waiter—it was only a matter of time between two worlds collided in a big explosion of rhetoric and cholesterol.

The New York Times came out with a story today on the utterly boring but I guess somewhat relevant governor’s race in New Jersey. Incumbent John Corzine, in a new television ad, less-than-discreetly alludes to his adversary’s, well, weight. In the ad, gubernatorial hopeful Christopher Christie (by the by, what kind of fucking name is this?) steps out of an SUV in slow motion, “his extra girth moving … in several different directions at once,” as the Times so eloquently puts it. The narrator, meanwhile, says Christie “threw his weight around” to avoid traffic tickets.

This isn’t the first time Corzine’s commercials have, let us say, highlighted Christie’s weight, though the governor denies it (after having watched the ad, I too think Christie’s camp, or at least the Times, is overreacting). But it may very well be the latest in what I would consider an impending paradigm shift—weight, once a completely off-limits subject for any public figure outside the realm of entertainment celebrity, is becoming a sticking point. When Regina Benjamin was nominated for surgeon general, people were quick to question whether she was “too fat” for the job.

This isn’t to say that I haven’t been critical of obesity time and time again on this site — but I don’t think someone’s judgment when it comes to cheeseburgers is related to their judgment on public policy. Shit, if love of cheeseburgers and holding informed political opinions were mutually exclusive, I’d have a damn hard time choosing between the two. Especially if the cheeseburgers were from McDonald’s.

Moreover, were I running for any public office in the great state of New Jersey, I would avoid making critical comments, however subtle, on the basis of my opponent’s appearance. Especially if I looked just like John Hammond from Jurassic Park.

[NY Times]

• Dozens of corruption arrests in New Jersey
  
• Dead shark left in Miami street after failed sale
  
• Amy Winehouse in court on fan assault charge
  
• Stephen Baldwin files for bankruptcy

And my favorite of the day, which isn’t so much unsurprising as it is simply hilarious:

• Edison Officials Fighting Return of Erotic Convention

Few would consider getting their house pillaged while they were still in it an uplifting experience, but I have to imagine the 91-year old Jersey City woman who was tricked into holding her toilet handle down while a conman looted her house really must be down in the dumps.

The resident answered a knock on her door at 2pm on November 17th, whereupon a man disguised as a water company employee told her there was an emergency and “he had to check the water.”

He proceeded to turn a faucet on in the kitchen, and then flushed the toilet. Next, he put his right foot in, he put his right foot out, he shook it all about. Then, the conman told the victim to “hold down the flush handle or else the house will explode,” and, haha, the best part is — the lady believed him! On the other hand, who can blame her — there are a lot of old pipes in that house, aren’t there. Read More ›

"When you gotta go, you gotta go."

No offense Jersey, but after giving you kudos for the whole “affordable gas” thing, I couldn’t walk away and let that praise just hang there, untainted by commentary on all of the various other factors that make Jersey a cesspool of gambling and beach towns and big hair. It’s time for a reality check .

Jersey City Councilman Steven Lipski vowed Monday to quit drinking, less than 48 hours after being arrested for reportedly urinating on a crowd of concert-goers in a Washington, D.C. nightclub. Lipski, who has yet to specifically confirm the pee-pee allegations, was charged with assault after he supposedly relieved himself from the second balcony of D.C.’s 9:30 Club Friday night during a concert by a Grateful Dead tribute band.

Dude, come on. I’ve been to the 9:30 Club and while I wouldn’t exactly call it a paragon of cleanliness, I can say with some degree of certainty that there isn’t urine actively flowing down the walls. And if urine were to make a more prominent appearance, I consider a Grateful Dead tribute concert the last place for it to happen — fans were likely so high (and overdue for showers) that they didn’t even notice what had gone down until someone’s designated driver went “Dude, you smell like piss.”

Supposedly, Lipski is telling local papers that a spilled drink fell on first-floor fans, but I find it hard to believe the councilman would call the incident “deeply humiliating” if all he had done was spill some vodka tonic on fellow Deadheads. If I got deeply humiliated every time I knocked my drink into some unsuspecting bar-goer, I’d probably never leave my apartment again. Shit, I’m pretty sure I spilled beer on myself all of 20 minutes ago.

The bottom line here is that you can take the mildly-alcoholic publicly elected riffraff out of New Jersey …but you can’t get them to use the men’s room.

[Newsday]

Remember the days when gas was a mere $2 per gallon? Of course you do, because those days are right now!

Seriously, while everyone was concerning themselves with multi-billion-dollar bailouts and this whole “Woe is me, I can’t pay my bills and my kids are sick and I’m getting evicted,” nonsense, gas is selling for under $2 a gallon in New Jersey. If I’m not mistaken, doesn’t this mean all our problems are over? Didn’t this whole thing start with people who couldn’t fork over the $50 it cost to fill up their SUVs? Weren’t people complaining about gas prices long before home prices, or food prices, or $700-billion-bailout prices? Shouldn’t we all be dancing in the streets while our cars idle in flamboyant celebration of the fact that we can afford to visit our out-of-state relatives again? Make sure the retirement community pool is heated Nana, because Florida here I come!

Alas, no. These days we’d give up our first born children for the chance to bitch about gas prices, that is if bitching about gas prices meant it was 2007 and the world hadn’t gone to shit yet. Shelling out two twenties to get through ten commutes is nothing when you’ve watched your 401(k) shell out $2,000 in three months.

So listen God, I know we spent months praying for discounts at the pump, clutching our Shell Cards between our folded hands like rosary beads, but it would be great if you could go ahead and forget all that. We have bigger fish to fry now, like paying off that car we’ve been filling with $1.99/gallon unleaded.