Monday, October 30, 2006

The information

Notwithstanding the Chron's admirably front page reportage, Terra Madre remains under-reported in American media, to judge by google news. But you can, at least, follow along at La Stampa.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Hey douchebags

If you are selling something, including yourself, don't tell me about it unless you have a reason to believe I'm interested. I will immediately delete your comment or email, and create a filter so I never hear from you again.

Everyone else, be advised that I will never get an email from you if it mentions Buddha thanks to some pathetic piece of shit in Scotland or Russia or something. Not that I really wanted to hear what you think about Buddha anyway. Viagra, on the other hand...

Wednesday, October 18, 2006


  • After an early disappointment, I'm pleased to report that Paul Bertolli's Toscano is excellent.
  • I try to avoid articles like this, but: when does comic incompetence become apocalyptic stupidity?
  • Spinach: Michael Pollan sometimes annoys me, but when he's good, he's good.
  • Via the oft-irritating Food First, whose archives are a couple years out of date: Union-Supported Agriculture in Brewer, Maine.

Friday, October 13, 2006


I bought some "designer" jeans. It would ashame me, were I capable of shame, to say that this is my third pair of "designer" jeans, including one by an actual "designer" you have heard of. That pair was stolen by gypsies. No one you have heard of, unless you are a douche, was involved in the production of my new jeans, but that did not stop four (4) of the responsible parties from signing the garment. This was presumably intended to indicate the amount of labor required to come up with the obscene price demanded. Which, I assure you, I did not pay.* In fact, I bought these jeans precisely because so little labor appears to have been lavished on making them look old, unlike every other pair I could find. I'm perfectly capable of destroying my own clothing, thank you.

Anyway, the thing about them is that they fit me extremely well, except that the legs are at least SIX inches too long. I'm six feet tall. Now, my waistline has expanded a bit in the last decade, I won't lie, but the fact that this company even makes jeans in my size means that I'm in pretty good shape (not literally, just my waistline). So basically there's a whole industry that makes clothes for Division I small forwards only.

So now I have to cuff my jeans like an asshole.

*By no fault of my own, I was briefly related to a horrible man who was not only proud that his motto was "never pay retail", but also asked me to translate it into latin for a family crest. Needless to say I refused.

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Monday, October 09, 2006

Spanning the Globe

1. They don't make 'em like they used to

A's-Tigers 1972 ALCS, game 5:

Reggie Jackson pulled his hamstring sliding into home plate on a double steal (he missed the World Series) and center fielder George Hendrick, moments before catching the final out, was pelted in the back with a whiskey bottle.

2. Great moments in analogy

2006 Raiders-49ers game:

Maybe Johnny Rotten said it best in 1978, when he and the Sex Pistols ended their failed U.S. concert tour at San Francisco's old Winterland.
Their final song: "No Fun."
His final words to a disgusted crowd: "Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?"

Wednesday, October 04, 2006


It took a mere 30 seconds of the late game last night to realize the most important reason for local interest in October baseball: you don't have to watch it on national TV. Seriously, is Joe Buck not the most fatuous asshole in history?


RIP, Johnny Apple. The Times obit's coupling of Dickensian and Churchillian epithets to the requisite Falstaffian seems appropriately hyperbolic. But magnums of Calvados?

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Two observations on the passage of time

1. October baseball. Two years is too long to go without. It's on.

2. Clairette de Die. I've been looking for this stuff for so long I forgot about it. Then last week it appeared at my local wine merchant. Fizzy. A little sweet. Low alcohol. Pliny dug it and so will you.

... And the appropriate celebration for #1 above. Represent!

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