BovicOpera

U2 Sallies Forth

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 22:41:44 -0500

We’re about 90 minutes from the U.S. release of No Line on the Horizon, U2’s latest studio album. It’s gotten generally glowing reviews (ranging from 3-5 stars), but the single “Get Your Boots On” has left me somewhat apprehensive. It’s less a song than a hodgepodge of disjointed, funky verses linked with a vapid bridge and a nonsensical refrain (“Sexy boots!…Sexy boots!”). I wonder if the rest of the album will be as such. I doubt it, but you never know.

Still, like Ellis Redding, I hope. Regardless of what it sounds like, I will be listening to the entire album, perhaps twice, tonight.

The band thinks this is their best song, and I agree. Enjoy.

Another fine film brought to you by the internets. I suggest...

Tue, 24 Feb 2009 21:06:16 -0500

Another fine film brought to you by the internets. I suggest you just skip ahead to 8:00 or so. (Earmuffs, kids).

If you have not seen Midnight Run you must. It is like having God look you in the face and say “truly you are My greatest creation.”

This one is dedicated to a young man who thinks that he...

Mon, 02 Feb 2009 13:09:00 -0500

This one is dedicated to a young man who thinks that he isn’t having any fun today.

Justin Rees, this one’s for you.

(Note the lack of running through undeveloped landscape and drinking polluted river water in this video. By this point, Duran Duran had sold out that original artistic purity that made them so great.)

So it’s been a few months. So it’s been almost five...

Sat, 31 Jan 2009 12:40:17 -0500

So it’s been a few months. So it’s been almost five months. I dunno, between “America’s Biggest Loser” and MMA cage matches, I have been otherwise engaged.

I promise, however, to once again bring you the finest in snarky lists, Teutonic references, and all around Bovicoperism.

Onward!

A Preview of the Palin-Biden Debate

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 09:23:30 -0400

Gov. Palin is portrayed by Bas Rutten in this debate mock-up. Notice her effective use of the table.

Ne Plus Ultra (+1) (Part Deux)

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 20:31:00 -0400

Our journey through American one upmanship continues today with a look at weight loss schemes.

2. I Swear I’m Just Retaining Water

At the end of the millennium, Americans had won one Cold and two World Wars, plus we evened out Korea/Vietnam with Iraq 1/Grenada. We had earned some relaxation and economy-sized sandwiches (see below). By 2002, the good ol’ U.S. had packed on some extra weight—so much so that we had obviated the need for normal sized seating on an aircraft.

Now seating 19 passengers

Berated by “health experts,” “doctors,” and Tony Little, Americans considered their options. Should we exercise? Eat less? Go for expensive liposuction? Certainly not. Americans, when faced with adversity, always innovate. It’s something else we steal from the Germans. When our Teutonic forebears faced adversity in the form of hunger, thirst, and the Maginot line, they invented sausage, beer, and Belgium.

The first foray into easy weight loss were weight loss supplements. An important fact: as long as you label something “supplement,” the Food and Drug Administration really doesn’t care what goes into it. Hence: fen-phen. This marvelous concoction promised to cut your appetite, kick-start your metabolism, and leave you free to watch that entire CSI marathon. Sadly, the no-fun brigade in Washington thought that a few cases of catastrophic heart failure were enough to keep us from looking trim.

“You’re dead to me, FDA. I won’t even take off my sunglasses to say it.”

Deprived of our chance to have better living through chemistry, Americans opted for technology. By attaching electric diodes across the body and receiving a series of mild shocks, the body is “tricked” into thinking that you’re actually moving. In principle, it is identical to the Rejuvenique, which combines Man in the Iron Mask, de Sade, and Michael Myers.

Imagine this for your stomach. Except the only thing that’s killed is your low self-esteem!

Unfortunately, both of these required some effort on our part. You still had to regulate your diet with fen-phen, and the electric shock treatment might make you sweat. (What is this, communist China?) Thankfully, the FDA is on its way to finally opening the path to avoirdupois nirvana by approving a “couch potato pill.” Yes, you can finally win the war against your body by fooling it into thinking that you have a metabolism and a social life. Best of all, the pill doesn’t require you to regulate your diet—you could grind it up and drink it out of a milkshake!

“I’m a weight loss man, you see”

For Your Listening Pleasure (Not You, Swayze)

Sat, 23 Aug 2008 21:39:13 -0400

More palpitation-inducing music. If you don’t love this song, then I suggest you get back to your pennies, Ebeneezer.

How is it possible for a male above the age of 12 to hit the high notes? I ask you this, Righteous Brothers. How?

Stupid Lucky Kids

Sat, 23 Aug 2008 02:25:47 -0400

Stupid Lucky Kids

For Your Listening Pleasure

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 16:40:00 -0400

Some songs are so emotionally evocative that they are less music and more of an experience. Debussy’s Clair de Lune is one of those songs.

Ne Plus Ultra +1

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 21:45:43 -0400

I have to put in a post about Michael Phelps. What he has accomplished is just incredible. Ted Williams, Don Larsen, Tiger, Marino can’t compare. Even Mark Spitz raced against markedly lower caliber swimmers (though he did it in Rico Suave style).

I will go out on a limb and say that his eight gold medals and seven world records is the single greatest achievement in sports history. I can’t think of anything that approaches the Olympian heights of Mr. Phelps & Co.

In honor of their achievement, I will periodically offer some other feats of American one-upmanship.

1. The Hamburger

We start with that most American of foods stolen from the Germans. Simple, filling, and offering endless opportunities for outdoor social interaction, it’s a perfect food. All that it lacks are the two most American of ingredients—fanatical competitiveness and the possibility of a diabetic coma.

Burger King fired the first salvo with the “Stackers.” Intuitively, they come in two, three, and four (!) pattie stacks. While McDonalds was opting for healthier options—like salads drenched in ranch dressing in a paper cup—the King seemed to say “no leaf shall mar the palettes of my subjects” and ordered some bacon added on. At around 1000 calories, I’d say it was a respectable start.

Don’t forget your onion rings.

Not to be outdone by a foreign potentate, Minor League Baseball replied. “How can we make baseball more appealing to gluttons while also creating something truly disgusting?” they wondered. Of course! Turn the hamburger into breakfast food!

The Krispy Kreme burger, introduced by the Sauget, Illinois Gateway Grizzlies, is a monument to one-upmanship and an incredible boon to HMOs. Georgians, who lust for ground-beef induced death par excellence (see below), went one step further and created the Luther Burger. No solomonic (read: pansy-ass) donut splitting for namesake Luther Vandross; each bun half is an entire Krispy Kreme. Note: Luther can be seen before eating the burger here, and after here.

This is what he meant when he sang “Never Too Much”

Finally, after many an angioplasty, the Michael Phelps of Hamburgia rose out of the depths of Dixie. Actually, it was a biker bar/grille outside of Atlanta, but the point remains. I’m not even going to wax poetic about this thing. The Double-Bypass Coronary Burger has two large patties, four slices of cheese, four strips of bacon, a fried egg, mayo, and it sits on two entire grilled cheeses. This, my friends, is why we fought at Guadalcanal:

“And I’m proud to be an American…”

It Looks Just Like Me!

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 22:39:00 -0400

It’s a pretty busy week, hence the lack of posting. By way of apology, I provide you with a classic piece of Irish folklore.

Begorrah! They’re after me grits!

Forbes=Best Magazine (Evarr).

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 21:52:00 -0400

End the tyranny of US News & World Report. These Forbes fellas seem to know what they’re talking about.

Finally, fair and balanced rankings.

Note: I realize that Nerd Wars (UofC v. NU ranks) are of little interest to anyone, and that it is pathetic and infantile to gloat.

Nevertheless, this one’s for you, Chicago. You’re my boy, Maroon!

Under New Management

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 13:14:00 -0400

The good folks over at Pinstripe Alley have made it clear that Brian Cashman will probably be the Yankees’ GM “long into the future.” I suppose this makes some sense—I’ll give Marte and Nady the benefit of the doubt. But when it comes to pitching, we seem to have had the benefit of a good farm system of late—Chacon, Small, Wang, IPK, Hughes, Joba, and Melancon are not the result of good trading. While all of these guys are as injury prone as a juiced-up racehorse, they still have serious talent.

For this, we should give Cashman markedly less credit. He’s got a spotty record when it comes to offensive production: Melky is usually a Mendoza line hitter, Abreu is good for 8-pitch at bats and a single. Obviously, the insane amount of runners stranded is hurting us, but so is an average age approaching AARP-benefits.

Rather than Cashman, we need a new face. I propose Ra’s al Ghul. I think the Batman Begins villain has the right idea about clearing out the detritus of poor decisionmaking in the past. We’ve become so old and bloated that we hobble along, much like a pre-Batman Gotham. The rotation and the bullpen need to be cleaned out.

In football, you’d call it “blowing up the team,” (though that particular phrase might have a different meaning for Ra’s). This seems drastic, but only because it’s the Yankees and not any other team. The Marlins purge like this once every five years (or whenever Wayne Huizenga wanted some quick cash) but they tend to come back stronger (1997, 2003). When Yanks fans think Xavier Nady will add a much needed offensive boost, it’s obvious that things have reached a new low. Yet we assume that every year is a World Series year, and that we’re almost there.

It isn’t and we aren’t.

So we keep Joba, Wang, IPK and maybe Hughes and Moose. Move heaven and earth for one of Sabathia, Kazmir, or Halladay. Put Melancon in the bullpen and cut absolutely everyone else. My only request for offense is that we avoid making the Manny Mistake. I’ve had enough of poaching other teams’ overweight, overhyped post-prime players—it feels like we’re shooting the sequel to The Rookie. Come to think of it, maybe Dennis Quaid is available…

“Give me Sabathia, or I remove my hemp jacket and get serious.”

Uh oh.

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 09:17:00 -0400

I wonder if it’s a bad omen to think that your day started with a bad omen. Is that just an excuse to turn the day into a self-fulfilling prophecy? Or maybe I’m just clairvoyant?

I recognize the irony of beginning the blogging beguine with ill portents, but Janice, the nice lady from the Tumblr welcome screen, suggested I write about “what happened in your day.” Given that I am up unreasonably early, beginnings were on my mind.

Also on my mind: what is going on with the US women in swimming? We’re losing to Aussies and the comyaniss’ like it’s our job out there. If it is our job, can we at least outsource it to the Chinese so that they do our losing for us? Seriously, I would rather have a pro show some real emotion than have to look at Katie Hoff make this face for a seventh time:

Maybe she just got off to a bad start.