The Real Sushi Samba

This morning, a horrible thing happened.



I was on the C train this morning. A couple entered the C train at High Street. The husband looked remarkably like Sacha Baron Cohen (Da Ali G Show) in one of his many disguises. I noticed he was eating breakfast on the train. A common annoyance, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then I realized he was eating sushi. For breakfast (Okay, I know you're going to give me the argument that the Japanese often eat rice and fish for breakfast, but this is entirely different). On the C train. With chopsticks. While standing! To make matters worse, he was practically forcing his wife to eat the sushi, repeatedly saying "Mmmmmm!" in a VERY loud voice. Just when I feared he was going to start making airplane noises (single engine, no doubt), they mercifully got off at the Canal Street station.



Now, I get irritated when there's a passenger with an open container of coffee on the subway, fearing the train will suddenly jerk and some unsuspecting victim soaked. But I can justify this as normal, if somewhat inconsiderate. I am not, however, prepared to take a faceful of Spicy Tuna! If this becomes a trend, I will seriously have to consider moving. And I LOVE sushi. But this was bad bad sushi. The kind that comes in the cheesy little black plastic container that we all know and love. The kind that Sushi Express would throw back. Dig?



You know what? I have a better idea. I'll start a new trend. Tomorrow morning, I will travel the subways with a very large lasagna, asking the other passengers if they want a piece. I'll rub my tummy repeatedly, signifying the lasagna's unquestionable goodness.



Well, I have my work cut out for me. I'll see you tomorrow.

Being for the Benefit of Sgt. Pepper

I'm truly beginning to hate rock critics. It seems the more relevant the subject matter, the more irrelevant they reveal themselves to be. For example, Jim DeRogatis has recently published a book entitled Kill Your Idols, a collection of essays meant as a "carbon copy/evil flip side/sarcastic Generation X response" to an earlier collection called Stranded: Rock and Roll for a Desert Island featuring Dave Marsh, Lester Bangs, etc. praising their favorite rock and roll recordings.



On his website, DeRogatis describes his book as "a spirited assault on a pantheon that has been foisted upon us." Not only is this miles away from being an original concept, I find it to be incredibly hypocritical from a man who not only has written for Rolling Stone (the vehicle that more or less built the aforementioned pantheon), but who also questions "whether an art form as loud, rude and unruly as rock 'n' roll should even have a canon in the first place." Then why add to it with this self-important compilation? I resent the smug notion that I, or any other rock fan, love Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band because I am unconsciously attaching a undeserved cultural relevance to it. This is a completely antiquated notion, and it seems as though DeRogatis (who is closer to a baby boomer than the GenX'er he claims to be) may not only be experiencing a midlife crisis, but has lost his sense of cultural perspective. Sgt. Pepper's has not endured because of its listeners' feelings of nostalgia, even if it supposedly captured the spirit of its day. He also contradicts himself when he compares the album to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, betraying his argument (however inconsistent) that music should be listened to objectively. Granted, Pet Sounds is a far superior album, but that's not the point.



I guess the real point is that this book has already been done to near perfection. It's called Worst Rock-And-Roll Records of All Time by Jimmy Guterman and Owen O'Donnell. This book is not only hilarious, it contains far superior writing and a genuine sense of humor, more a pie-in-the-face compared to the humorless stoning offered up by DeRogatis and friends. Guterman and O'Donnell sum their ideals up thusly:

An important part of being a good rock and roll fan is reveling in songs so laughable it's hard to believe any sane record company released them. We have two goals here: to be funny and to infuriate.

In other words, like all good assassins, they ultimately turn the gun on themselves in the end. They never claim to be above listening to a Melanie record, they merely pretend to be above praising it.



I think they succeed where DeRogatis fails.

God Damn My Eyes

I'm posting this primarily to torture my good friend and long-suffering Queen fan, Daniel Nester. As a severely damaged fan of The Kinks, I know what this kind of suffering means. No one respects the Kinks (at least not on what I would consider to be a satisfactory level), and their music is used to promote ugly cars and Jolly Ranchers. If this is an example of what will become their musical legacy, I would just as soon have a closed coffin, frankly.

Having said this, I don't know whether to laugh or cry at this Viagra ad. Unlike the Kinks, who, to paraphrase head Fug Ed Saunders, signed the worst recording contract since Leadbelly's (hence very little or no control and/or royalties), Queen are at least making some money from this. Still, it seems kind of a shame. Maybe if it were Bob Dole leaping and dancing around, it would annihiliate any tragic overtones, rendering this a completely enjoyable spoof.

Click on the image to download it.

Target This!

The Gawker says so many things best, so instead of pretending to invent my own take on the garish hideousness of this event, I'll let them do it. I can think of no better reason for the Atlantic Center Target spectacle than "to show us the definition of 'they'd go to the opening of an envelope.'" Brilliant!

Now I can hardly wait for the grand opening of Chuck E. Cheese!

Think Outside Your Current Waistline

Just when you thought the culinary world had progressed a tiny step after McDonald's announced a "cease-fire" on the super sizing, Taco Bell goes and makes them look like stingy fools. Announcing their "Big Bell Value Menu" featuring, among other delicacies, the 1/2 Pound Beef Combo Burrito, now with "double the portion of seasoned beef," Taco Bell is attempting the corral the bottomless buffet crowd with a heart-stopping array of oversized treats.

While I'm on the subject, you simply must check out Crazy Gordita's site. Personally, I would have preferred his original moniker, Loco Phat (as opposed to The Gordita Bandito, for example). Billed as "The Best Taco Bell Website in the World," it is a hilarious, well-researched TB cyber wonderland authored by a man who regularly ingests way too much sugar. Be sure to check out the comparison articles where Crazy compares TB to McDonald's, Burger King and other would-be competitors.

Arthur "Killer" Kane Dead at 55

Arthur "Killer" Kane, bass player for the New York Dolls, is dead at 55. There are conflicting reports concerning the cause of death. Both reports cite "complications," one from leukemia, one from pneumonia. This comes at a particularly sad time, as the Dolls were staging something of a comeback, reuniting for long time fan Morrissey's recent UK tour. An album of new material was also planned to be released later this year. It is not yet known whether the band will continue.

Kane is the fouth member of the Dolls to die. Billy Murcia, their original drummer, died under mysterious circumstances during a tour of the UK in late 1972. Johnny Thunders, their lead guitarist, died in 1991 of a drug overdose. Jerry Nolan, Murcia's replacement, died early 1992 after suffering a stroke and lapsing into a coma while being treated for bacterial meningitis and bacterial pneumonia in the hospital.

Want Some Freedom Fries With That?

"You don't support Democrats," the ad for W Ketchup reads, "why should your ketchup?" What can I really say about this? This is truly the dumbest thing I've seen in my entire life.



In case you don't get the "joke," this product exists in order to draw attention to Teresa Heinz Kerry's ketchup-based fortune. The manufacturers claim that "W" stands for "Washington" and has nothing to do with George "Warbucks" Bush. My prediction: the few remaining on-the-fence voters NOT swayed by Fahrenheit 9/11 will surely embrace the Kerry-Edwards ticket after seeing this idiotic display.



So much for avoiding politics....

Harry Truman Returns From Dead To Ridicule New York Post

33rd President of the United States Harry Truman, who died December 26, 1972, was in giddy spirits yesterday evening as he held aloft Tuesday's New York Post with the now-infamous "Kerry Selects Gephardt" headline. "What idiots!" Truman was overheard shouting. "They're so reliable, Page Six isn't even on page six half the freakin' time! Morons!"

This Just In...

Baked Ziti has learned from our most credible, but unsubstantiated source that Democratic Presidential Candidate John Kerry has picked The Green Lantern as his Vice-Presidential candidate. Kerry was reported as saying "I was looking for someone extremely animated to balance out the ticket."

Brando A No-Show At Own Funeral

Marlon Brando, one of the most influential and treasured actors of his generation, was unable to attend his own funeral this week, opting instead to send a crude wooden replica of Sacheen Littlefeather in his place.

Decked out in full Native American regalia, the Best Actor oscar for 1972's "The Godfather" by her side, the wooden replica cut quite a figure. It was a small, private ceremony consisting mostly of family members. "She looks so peaceful." one attendee noted. "Like she's sleeping."

Shays Sera Sera

Seven months ago, Rep. Christopher Shays (R-Connecticut) said the following regarding citizens of Connecticut:

"You gotta be a fool, frankly, to go on New Year's night to Times Square. I mean, I can't understand why people do that. Just one hand grenade thrown in the air and people panicking. It's just too tempting a target."

Well, no argument about New York being a tempting target. I'm just getting a little tired of people, mostly well-meaning relatives who have never visited me here, saying "You're staying in New York for the fourth of July?! Okay, well it's your funeral!" I have a really nice family.

Anyway, I was talking to my friend Doug Jahnke about it and he solved the conundrum thusly: "If terrorists blow up New York, why would you still want to remain alive?"

Good point, if you ask me. No matter what happens, have a great Fourth of July.