Monday, October 29, 2007

The Best Showdown Between Good and Evil

In the first week of November, 2007, The New England Patriots, having begun the season by casting doubt on their entire legacy when their cheating was revealed, will square off against the Indianapolis Colts in a battle of unbeatens that deserves the adjective "epic." To celebrate that, TBOE and Nonsportsmanlike Conduct team up to give you A Week of Showdowns culiminating in what will be The Best Showdown Between Good and Evil.
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Sports fans know that this week will feature a rarity this late in the NFL season: a battle between two unbeaten teams, the 7-0 Indianapolis Colts and the 8-0 New England Patriots*.

It is a rarity because it’s so difficult for two pro football teams to go through a half-season without losing a single game before they meet up. But in another sense, this week’s showdown between The Colts and the Patriots* is nothing new. It represents something that humanity has been seeing for eons: the battle between Good (Colts) and Evil (Patriots*).

And, as the old saying goes, those who do not learn the lessons of history… something something…doomed. (I’m not sure what it says; I kind of tuned out my old history teacher when he talked.) The point anyway is that history can tell us how to look at this game (airing at 3 p.m. Central time Sunday) and what to expect. So, for the first-ever joint venture between The Best Of Everything and Nonsportsmanlike Conduct, here comes:

A Week of Showdowns: What Past Battles Between Good And Evil Tell Us About The Upcoming Colts-Pats Game!

(Yes, if you read the title, you knew what I was going to say there.)



Each day I’ll be counting down the seven best showdowns between Good and Evil in human history, and pointing out what each has in common with Sunday’s game and therefore what we can expect.

The Seventh Best Showdown Between Good and Evil In Human History:

#7: Prometheus vs. Zeus: Not many people alive today recall this epic showdown that went on and on. Prometheus was the Titan who switched sides to fight with Zeus, only to then rebel against Zeus to help mankind – who Prometheus helped create. Prometheus defied Zeus to give mankind the best parts of the animals, and famously stole the sacred fire to give to man. As punishment, Zeus had Prometheus chained down while an eagle ate his liver each day, a punishment that lasted until Hercules came and rescued Prometheus. Also as punishment, Zeus created Pandora and sent her to man.

What this battle teaches us about the Colts & The Patriots*:












First of all, that switching sides can sometimes pay off – as former Patriots* kicker Adam Vinatieri understands, now that he’s kicking in the comfort of the Dome there in Indianapolis.







Secondly, that even the best punishments don’t last forever and rarely affect how people act – right Bill Belichick?











And, the final lesson is that men, you might think you’ve got the best game-day barbecue ever, what with your meat from the best parts of the animal and your sacred fire, but at some point a woman is going to come and ruin it.



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#6: Crisis On Infinite Earths (Monday):

I confirmed it last night: no NFL teams of 7-0 or better have ever faced off in a game, so this weeks Colts-Patriots* game, featuring the 7-0 Colts vs. the 8-0 Patriots* is a unique event in that sense. But in another sense, again, it’s nothing new because humanity has seen epic struggles between good and evil before, and this week will continue my review of the top seven ever – and also what each tells us about the game this week.

The Sixth Best Battle Between Good and Evil in human history happened back in the 1980’s, and you might have been unaware of it despite its overwhelming importance. I’m talking about the

Crisis on Infinite Earths:

A battle which featured every superhero in the Universes vs. a thing called the Anti-Monitor, who was destroying the universes with antimatter.

By the 1980s, the world of superheroes had grown extremely complex and the world of comic books had grown unprofitable, so something had to be done. Over in the Marvel Universe, the powers-that-be staged the Secret Wars, as a character known as the Beyonder kidnapped all the superheroes and supervillains and made them fight on another planet.

That, in turn, prompted the characters of the DC Universe to go one better – or hundreds better. While comic books in our lives broke into two groups – Marvel and DC—the lives in DC comic books spanned across a dizzying array of universes, ranging from Earth 1 (which had modern-era superheroes including many many Green Lanterns) to Earth 2 (with golden age superheroes including the Green Lantern in the cape and the Flash that wore a soup tureen on his head, which somehow stayed on while he ran) to Earth Prime (which is where we lived in comic books) to Earth Shazam (seriously) to an Earth that I think was different but had the Blue Beetle… Things were complicated.

Not too complicated, though: For some reason, there was only one Aquaman.

Enter the Anti-Monitor, who had been spawned in the primordial soup as the opposite of the Monitor, sort of, since the Monitor was a guy who also had always been around but just watched things, but the Anti-Monitor came into being and didn’t just watch, he destroyed things. (DC always had a problem with defining what opposites were: Bizarro Superman was supposed to be the opposite of Superman, because his world was a cube and he said “Hello” when he meant goodbye – a problem that was appropriately pointed out on Seinfeld when Elaine asked if Bizarro shouldn’t have said “Bad-bye” instead?)

The Anti-Monitor, through 12 issues (plus crossovers) of a series destroyed universes one after another, collapsing universes together and facing off against all the heroes of the Universes, including both Supermen, all the Green Lanterns, Aquaman, and even the bad guys, who all joined in with the good guys – even The Joker, although I’m not sure that it would help to set an elaborate trap for the Anti-Monitor that required that he step into a large bowl of cheese or whatever it was the Joker always did – but everyone joined in, fighting an epic battle that lasted long enough for DC to declare that everything was new and refined and much more worthy of purchasing, as Golden Age Superman took Golden Age Lois Lane to another dimension, and Supergirl died (sorry about the spoiler!) and Flash died! (Only his nephew got his uniform and became the Flash, so it’s not like we didn’t have a Flash anymore.)

The point is, though, that this battle exceeded the Secret Wars and earned its spot on the list of Best Battles between Good and Evil because of the sheer scope: All the heroes! All the villains! New villains! Guys you haven’t heard of before or after! It was phenomenal.

What this battle teaches us about the Colts & The Patriots*:
First of all, it shows us that Epic Battles are where the money is. Already last night on Monday Night Football, the announcers were referring to this week as “The 41st-and-a-half Superbowl.” The NFL couldn’t have planned it better than to get this matchup. It’s almost as though when Roger Goodell demanded that he be given all those tapes and then destroyed them and issued a nominal punishment, he was up to something…

Secondly, the Crisis also teaches us – as Manny Ramirez might say – that none of this really matters much in the long run. So Golden Age Superman flew off into another dimension. So Supergirl died. We’ve still got a Flash, right? And all those Green Lanterns? And Aquaman? How did he survive? This week’s game will be touted as having all sorts of significance but in the end it’s just one of 16 games. In college, every regular season game counts. In the NFL, 10 of them do.

Thirdly: In all epic battles, there’s the watcher and the destroyer. And we have that, too: Tony Dungy quietly sits on the sidelines and gets his team to 7-0, where they sit and await the marauding Patriots*, who have been steamrolling teams like antimatter through so many universes.

And last: Look at what DC did. They killed off a bunch of characters. That’s the most important lesson here. You don’t get the big ratings unless you knock off an important guy. And the Patriots* have been looking to prove something all year, getting less and less sportsmanlike as each game goes on. Look, I’m not going to make any wild accusations here. I’m just saying, Peyton, watch your blindside.

*The Patriots are Cheaters.


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NUMBER FIVE:
We continue counting down the Seven Best Showdowns Between Good and Evil in anticipation of the first-ever confrontation looming for November 4. Today it is...

Number Five: The Car Race Between Danny Zuko and Leo.

It was a tense moment. There was Kenickie, ready to race Greased Lightning against Leo (of The Scorpions) for pinks –

“Pinks?”

“Pinks, you punk! Ownership papers!”

And to help him out, they drop a penny, but Kenickie gets knocked out (should that be keknocked out?) and Danny Zuko has to step in and take on Leo. And, as he was told: “Ain’t no rules.”

Danny was, as we all know, struggling to be a good guy and get Sandy without letting his friends know that he liked her (even though it didn’t seem to pose a problem for Kenickie that he liked Rizzo) and could only do that, here, by being the bad guy, by racing against Leo and beating him as Sandy looked on from afar. So he gets in the car and takes off on the race – driving fast, tearing around, seeing the car get chewed up by Leo’s unorthodox rims.

And (Spoiler Alert!) he wins!

The Number Five Best Battle Between Good and Evil, the car race from Grease, was a few minutes of pure adrenaline that seemed somehow out of place in the throwback movie/musical but which gave that movie a needed bit of tension that did not involve Olivia Newton-John biting her lip pensively. And it boiled these type of confrontations down to their essence: a good guy, a bad guy, a simple goal (“First one back here wins”) and a prize to be won – those pinks.

What This Battle Tells Us About The Upcoming Colts/Patriots* game:

The most important lesson to learn is that all such battles – all important things – are properly handled by grown-ups. Look around movies and TV shows nowadays and all you see are kids or barely-adults. It’s a trend that began decades ago with Young Guns and had only gotten worse. When I was a kid, Superman was Christopher Reeve and was Superman. Now he’s Brandon Routh and it’s more like Super-late-teens-or-early-20s. Grease came before that time and had the grown-ups doing the work. John Travolta was only 24 when he made Grease, playing a high school senior. Jeff Conaway – Kenickie – was 28. But they looked like grown-ups. And this week’s game features grown-ups. None of this rookie phenom junk for these two teams. Manning and Brady have been around the block; the coaches have been with other teams and have all been to big games. Good vs. Evil is important stuff. Leave it to the adults.

Another good point to take from this race is the importance of the Hero. Heroes cannot be held down. They cannot, for example, be raised on a desert planet by Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and kept in seclusion forever. And they cannot be left standing idly on the side of the road while someone named Kenickie races for the glory. Heroes always step forward and pick up the mantle of glory.

The car race also tells us that there are rules and that cheaters don’t win. Leo tries to cover himself and tell Zuko “Ain’t no rules,” and that’s supposed to justify his behavior throughout the race. But it doesn’t work. Telling someone that there ‘ain’t no rules’ is just a smokescreen. You might as well go and say something like you misinterpreted the rules. The message is clear, either way: the good guys play fair and still win.


*We all know what that asterisk means by now, don't we?

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Colts vs. Patriots*: November 4: The Battle of Unbeatens. Has there ever been a greater competition in human history? As it turns out, Yes. There have been Seven greater ones, and The Best of Everything joins with Nonsportsmanlike Conduct to bring you those seven as we countdown to the game this Sunday.

Today's is The Fourth Best Competition Between Good and Evil: The Grinch vs. Christmas!

A sourpuss who lives on his own and by his own rules looks down on the world around him and decides that there is too much joy, too much fun, too much – so he decides to take it all away.

The Fourth Best Battle Between Good And Evil has some easy comparisons to this week’s battle of unbeatens. Let’s take a look at The Grinch vs. Christmas.

Dr. Seuss’ book has by now conquered almost every form of entertainment. It began as a kids’ book,












Then became a beloved holiday staple cartoon, then stampeded the pop culture landscape with the Ron Howard/Jim Carrey movie – which, darn it, I liked and I don’t care what all you critics say out there. It was a good movie! It was! The story has been so ingrained that we all instinctively understand what we mean when we describe someone as a Grinch.












Don’t we?














The story has been so ingrained not just because it’s about Christmas but because it follows the classic Good vs. Evil storyline: Bad guy, outcast by society, alone in his anger and bile, seethes and plots revenge. Then he gets his revenge, only it’s a hollow victory and Good has triumphed after all. We love stuff like that. We all want to believe that whether Evil sneaks into our house through the chimney, or slides down the side of its mountain on a careening sled, we will prevail regardless of how or why we fight back, because Good win. And Good wins so powerfully that it converts Evil to its side.

What We Can Learn About The Colts/Patriots* game from this Battle:


A key point to take away from this battle is, apparently, you can’t ever get enough of a good thing. When Dr. Seuss wrote How The Grinch Stole Christmas in the 1950s, Christmas was a smaller affair, with celebrations beginning not much before the actual day and being centered on the family. (Note: I am getting my information from the movie “A Christmas Story,” which I presume to be a valid documentary.) Now, fifty years later, Christmas is a months-long extravaganza that begins just after Labor Day, has the shelves crowding out Halloween Candy in October, and culminates in radio stations going to all-Christmas Music on Thanksgiving, shopping beginning at midnight, office parties, Secret Santas and giant inflatable Rudolphs.

The NFL is no different. In my lifetime, a person could actually get tickets to the first Superbowl, which was shown on two networks at the same time (and which drew barely better ratings than a 10-10 tie between Michigan and Notre Dame.) Now, the NFL season begins with the draft in the Spring – itself a two-day event – on to training camp in the summer, with a 17-week season and five weeks of playoffs and then the Pro Bowl (which is kind of like football except nobody watches) in February, just a few months shy of the draft. Football, like Christmas, is nearly year round, and has (at my last count on my satellite system) four channels primarily devoted to it and entirely devoted to it. (Here’s a thought: can we be far away from The Christmas Network, airing year-round Christmas movies?)

Another lesson from The Grinch vs. Christmas: Grinches will come around. Allow me to be Seussian about Grinches and the lessons they learn:

Grinches stomp, and they shout,
like they’ll knock themselves out.
They’ll groan and complain like they’re in lots of pain.
They run up the scores; they’re insufferable bores.
But when push comes to shove, all they want is some love.

But how will they get it, this love the Grinch needs?
Will they earn it through passing-and-running type deeds?

I’m afraid not. You see, a Grinch won’t learn to laugh,
Won’t pull out his starters or stop the long pass,
Won’t take a knee and won’t act the good sport
Until someone or something makes him stop short.

Those someones and somethings,

they won’t be you or me,
They won’t be the Commish, or his quick inquiry.

No, to fix up a Grinch the someones that you need
Have to teach him a lesson. These someones, you see
Must show to the Grinch that his ways are in error,
That he could play nicer, that he could play fair-er
And they’ll do that by beating the Grinch at his game,
By running and throwing and kicking the same
The same as the Grinch does, but they’ll do it better!

They’ll do it more quickly
They’ll do it more toughly,
They’ll do it more fastly, more fun-ly, more rough-ly.

And when the game’s over, the Grinch has gone down,
And that Grinch is just moping around with his frown,

They’ll walk to midfield, those someones and somethings
They’ll put up their hands with their Superbowl rings,
Those wonderful, non-tainted ring-finger-things,

They’ll shake hands with the Grinches,
They’ll smile, one and all.
Those someones and somethings will be having a ball.

Will that, after all, stop the Grinch from his moping?
There’s no guarantees – but of course, we’re all hoping!


ENJOY THE ORIGINAL SONG!


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Our countdown of The Best Showdowns between Good and Evil, done in conjunction with The Best of Everything continues with The Third Best:

The Beatles vs. The Rolling Stones:








Ah, the turbulent 60s: They’ve created so much fodder for Baby Boomers to obsess over and inflate the significance of. (Note: I am not a Baby Boomer; I’m a member of the Real Generation X, which differs from the Generation X the media thinks exists.)

But in some cases, the 60’s actually had a lasting impact that can be measured down the ages – as in the case of the Third Best Battle between Good and Evil, which is


The Beatles vs. The Rolling Stones. Where do I, a Gen-X-er get off declaring that The Beatles are Good and the Stones are Evil, you Baby Boomers are no doubt asking – or will be asking, once you stop checking on the value of your 401(k) plans and writing Newsweek articles which are just a list of movie titles that somehow are conflated in importance to the level of inscriptions on stone tablets carried down a mountain. (You non-Baby-Boomers are probably saying “Who are The Beatles and The Rolling Stones?”)

I can say that The Beatles and the Stones are Good and Evil because it’s so obvious. Just look at what they did. The Beatles put themselves on the cover of an album with various important people in history.


The Rolling Stones did this:





The Beatles began by telling America they wanted to hold our hands; The Stones complained that they could not get any satisfaction. From the start, The Beatles were adorable moptops while the Stones made you instinctively want to cross the street.

Not convinced? Consider this: While The Beatles were visiting an octopus’ garden in their yellow submarine, the Stones told us we couldn’t always get what we wanted and discussed Mom’s little yellow pills.



The Beatles wanted us to Let It Be. The Stones insisted that we Let It Bleed.

Still not sure? How’s this: John was The Walrus who compared himself to Jesus. Mick asked that we have Sympathy for the Devil.

That’s really all the argument I need.

The Beatles and The Rolling Stones divided pop music into Good and Evil, and took it in two separate directions. The Beatles remained upbeat no matter what they tried: Even when they went dark, like on Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, the effect was so lovable and happy that one could happily sing along with lyrics like “Bang Bang Maxwell’s Silver Hammer made sure that she was dead.” They found the beauty in people who had something to hide, they found the joy in the people and monkeys that did not have something to hide. They told us the story of Rocky Raccoon and made us cry tears of sad happiness while still humming the chorus. They’d be in the middle of a meditation on death like “A Day In The Life” and suddenly a jaunty pop tune would leap out at you. They could not help it: Paul and John and George and Ringo elevated pop literally to the rooftops before they were done.



The Stones dragged us in the other direction: They hired Hell’s Angels to provide security. They strutted and preened and had guitar solos that ripped into your head and did not leave. They sang about all the nervous breakdowns we’d have. They lamented Ruby Tuesday’s passing by noting “Ain’t life unkind?” When the Stones tried to be happy, it came out all twisted and wrong. On “She’s a Rainbow,” the piano notes are slightly off-key. The rainbow-woman wasn’t even happy – she was like a “sunset going down.” The Stones were dark and despondent and pulled us into the trenches with them and made us love it and hate it at the same time.

We were sad when The Beatles ended, because of how happy they could make us. We’d be sad if the Stones stopped because we would not know how happy we are without being reminded how bad things could be.

What Beatles vs. Stones tells us about the Colts/Patriots* Game:

Pretty and Popular Don’t Always Win: The Beatles were lovable moptops that had the girls swooning. Mick and Keith looked like they fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. (Years later, Keith actually did fall off a tree…) But who’s still around today making music and touring, and who’s fighting divorce battles and cutting deals with Starbucks? Watch it, Tom Brady: Peyton may have the bad haircut, but looks only carry you so far.

It Might Be Better to Get Your Disputes in The Open: The Patriots* are famed for playing as a team and never having any superstars and no egos, even though clearly they do. You can’t put Brady and Belichick and Randy Moss and Mike Vrabel and Teddy Bruschi all under one roof and still claim that they each think the other one is more important to this team. Like The Beatles, the Patriots* might be glossing over their differences and hoping to just hang in there. We know where that leads – breakups, ugliness, and Yoko Ono. The Colts, on the other hand, air their dirty laundry. Peyton calls out the “idiot kicker” and complains about the defense not getting the job done. In the long run, that might avoid more trouble.



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He was just a young boy, and at first did not know exactly how strong the evil he faced was. All the boy was looking for was to have some fun, do something to cheer him up and give him a break from the downtrodden existence that marked his everyday life.

But it would not work out that way.

When the boy left the home he’d grown up in, roaming out into the world, he did not know that there was Evil out there, an enemy waiting for him, an enemy who had waited a long time and now was poised, ready to destroy the boy’s hopes and dreams. An enemy the boy would face over and over again, each time raising anew the hopes that he could prevail and each time bringing up again the fear of his foe.

An enemy so evil it was not even called a proper name. Instead, the enemy was always referred to, circuitously, as…

The Kite-Eating Tree.

In the annals of good versus evil, there have always been young boys taking on ancient villains who have greater power than them. Long before Harry Potter took on You-Know-Who, Charlie Brown faced off against his own archvillain, The Kite-Eating Tree. Each spring, The Kite-Eating Tree sprung its leaves, and each spring Charlie Brown would run outside with his new kite, and each spring he battled again against his own personal demon… and, sadly, the Kite-Eating Tree always won.

Or did it?

The Kite-Eating Tree – located, like Evil always is, close to home (some people say it was in Charlie Brown’s backyard) ate all of Charlie Brown’s kites, and even a piano once. It seemed as though it could not be beaten, especially by hard-luck Charlie Brown. But there was one strip I recall where Charlie Brown went outside, convinced that this year the Kite-Eating Tree would NOT get his kite, ready to beat it, and then he simply… gave his kite to the tree, saying “Here, take it. It's been a long winter, and I'm very tender-hearted.”

And therein lies his victory. The Kite-Eating Tree got his kite, but Charlie Brown won, because he remained good in the face of evil. Like little boys facing off against Evil, the tradition of Good turning the other cheek and bringing evil around has been with us a long time, too: Luke Skywalker helped Darth Vader. Harry Potter even tried to help Voldemort. That’s because that’s what Good does: it sticks to its guns and remains good, and tries to get Evil to change. And that’s why Good always wins.

Evil may bite and kick and scratch and pull our kites from the sky, but it cannot change the very nature of who we are if we are Good. Evil wins the battles, but Good wins the war.

What we can learn about the Colts/Patriots* game from this Battle:

It’s important to have more than one way to fight. Charlie Brown beat The Kite-Eating Tree in the end because he used a sort of Peanuts-judo: he conquered it by seeming to give up. That came in the midst of a long string of attacks ranging from full-frontal assaults to sneakier battle plans. Meanwhile, The Kite-Eating Tree just stood there, year after year, eating kites. It couldn’t adapt, so it lost in the end.

Happiness is, indeed, a warm puppy. Charles Schulz taught that the important things in life are not just winning and losing. Lucy always won, but was miserable. Linus never won; he never saw the Great Pumpkin. Charlie Brown never won (until he beat the Tree at his own game.) His team lost 999 games in a row. The Little Red-Haired Girl never sent him a valentine. But he remained, deep down inside, happy and never gave up. Why? Because winning is not everything. What is everything is being a good person and fighting the good fight and playing by the rules. We all should keep that in mind. It does not matter if we, say, go 19-0 and win a fourth Superbowl, if we did not get there legitimately and if we’re not good people.

_______________________________________________________________ The Best Battle Between Good and Evil:


And so we come to The End.

Literally.

There really could only be one choice for The Best Battle Between Good and Evil, and that’s The Battle Between Good and Evil at the end of the world: The Apocalypse. When discussing the confrontations that Good and Evil engage in, how could anything ever top the ultimate confrontation between those two sides, the one that decides the Fate of Every Person in the World?

The only problem is, my understanding of the Final Battle between good and evil is a little hazy and muddled. I was raised in a fairly religious house – we went to church on most Sundays and all the big holidays, and I went to a Catholic school until I was pulled out in third grade in what I first assumed was a difference of academics, then later assumed was a religious dispute, and ultimately learned was merely about finances (which was also when I found out that public schools are free.) Despite that, though, my understanding of The Final Battle – the Apocalypse, I suppose – as a religious thing is very very limited to what I’ve gathered about it from brief allusions to the Book of Revelations. I know there’s a dragon involved, and Jesus, and a battle, and possibly the Virgin Mary. Honestly, that’s it. They don’t talk much about the Book of Revelations in church. I can’t imagine why; I’d certainly attend more often.

So what I know about the Final Battle Between Good and Evil comes, as so much of my other knowledge does, from two sources: comic books and pop music.

My first brush with the Final Battle was from reading Thor comics when I was younger. In Thor comics, which are no doubt extremely accurate renditions of Norse mythology, the End of the World was called Ragnarok. Or Gotterdammerung. Either way, it means the same thing to us: the end of the world, when gods fight gods, men fight men, the spirits in Valhalla will be loosed to fight… well, someone. And everyone will be silhouetted in dramatic angles like this:


And it might involve someone named “Mangog” who was something like 100,000,000 people all rolled into one guy that was going to destroy Asgard and then the world and also was the basis for Scientology.

And that’s really all I know about it. I’ve probably forgotten a few details. Very little sticks with me from the Thor comics. So I’ve had to fill in the gaps from other sources, like pop music, and there are two chief sources for information.

(Now, I know there are some who will knock me and say Wait a minute, you’re using pop songs and comic books as a reference for a scholarly work like this, and to them I say: It’s more reliable than Wikipedia.)

The first pop song is the appropriately titled REM song, “It’s The End of The World We Know It (And I Feel Fine).



I am an expert on the end of the world because I spent a long time, once, memorizing the lyrics to it. (I did the same thing with “Subterranean Homesick Blues.” I really need a hobby.) Those lyrics spell out in chilling detail just how The End Of The World Will Come:

That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and
snakes, an aeroplane and Lenny Bruce is not afraid.
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn - world
serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs. Feed
it off an aux speak, grunt, no, strength, the Ladder
start to clatter with fear fight down height. Wire
in a fire, representing seven games, and a government
for hire at a combat site. Left of west and coming in
a hurry with the furys breathing down your neck. Team
by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered cropped.
Look at that low playing. Fine, then. Uh oh,
overflow, population, common food, but it'll do to Save
yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs,
listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and
the reverend and the right, right. You vitriolic,
patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty
psyched.

It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it.
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.

Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign
towers. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself
churn. Lock it in, uniforming, book burning, blood
letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate.
Light a candle, light a motive. Step down, step down.
Watch your heel crush, crushed, uh-oh, this means no
fear cavalier. Renegade steer clear! A tournament,
tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions,
offer me alternatives and I decline.

(Chorus)

The other night I dreamt of knives, continental
drift divide. Mountains sit in a line, Leonard
Bernstein. Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester
Bangs. Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom! You
symbiotic, patriotic, slam bug net, right? Right.

(Chorus)

Scary, isn’’t it? Not least because Lenny Bruce appears twice. And jelly beans. I always suspected them. But REM at least gave us a cheery version of it – things could end but we would feel fine.

Not so with my other reference: Johnny Cash’s “The Man Comes Around.” I first heard this song when Sweetie and I saw (on a date!) “Dawn of the Dead,” where it served as the opening song while zombies ate people’s brains. It stands, then, in stark contrast to the REM version, despite its bouncy guitar work. Look at Johnny’s description:








And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder: One of the four beasts saying: "Come and see." And I saw. And behold, a white horse.
There's a man goin' 'round takin' names. An' he decides who to free and who to blame. Everybody won't be treated all the same. There'll be a golden ladder reaching down. When the man comes around.

The hairs on your arm will stand up. At the terror in each sip and in each sup. For you partake of that last offered cup, Or disappear into the potter's ground. When the man comes around.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers. One hundred million angels singin'. Multitudes are marching to the big kettle drum. Voices callin', voices cryin'. Some are born an' some are dyin'. It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom come.

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree. The virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree. It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

Till Armageddon, no Shalam, no Shalom. Then the father hen will call his chickens home. The wise men will bow down before the throne. And at his feet they'll cast their golden crown. When the man comes around.

Whoever is unjust, let him be unjust still. Whoever is righteous, let him be righteous still. Whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still. Listen to the words long written down, When the man comes around.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers. One hundred million angels singin'. Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettle drum. Voices callin', voices cryin'. Some are born an' some are dyin'. It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom come.

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree. The virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree. It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

In measured hundredweight and penny pound. When the man comes around.

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts, And I looked and behold: a pale horse. And his name, that sat on him, was Death. And Hell followed with him.

Oh, man. We’re back to the scary/Thor/Ragnarok version only it’s WORSE.
But maybe not, because in Johnny’s version, you have a shot, too – you can “partake of that last offered cup” and join the 100 million angels singing – if you’re wise. Which makes it no much different from REM’s version, where you can light a candle and save yourself.

I’m not sure how either of those square with Thor’s version, but no matter who’s right, it’ll be something to see. Rainbow bridges, whirlwinds, the four horsemen, gods, men, spirits, angels, and… Lenny Bruce. There’s no topping the Apocalypse for battles between good and evil.

What we can learn about the Colts/Patriots* game from this:

It’s obvious, isn’t it? No matter what happens, no matter which team you like, no matter how your side does, always remember this: It’s just a game. It’s not the end of the world.

Friday, October 12, 2007

The Best Pet 2007

Casey: Best Pet 2007

I was driving along on my way to work last March, just singing along with the music – I don’t remember what the song was, but I’d guess it was “Come Sail Away” by Styx because at the time I was very into that song and because I like to listen to that in the car since I can sing along with it without people staring and wondering if I can hit at least one note right, but that’s really all beside the point – and as I was singing, I was thinking about how great the NCAA Basketball Tournament was, not because of basketball but because somehow the Tournament got even people like me, people who are awful at basketball and who don’t like to watch it, to pay attention to it.

And I was also thinking about Mateo and McHale Shaw, two little boys who have been through an awful lot in their lives. They were born conjoined twins, and were separated while still young, and had to go through what seems to me to be every available medical procedure known to man. Despite all that, Mateo and McHale are always smiling in pictures. And so are their parents.

Those two thoughts combined into one brilliant idea: Tournament of Pets. Over on Gather, I announced that I would hold Tournament of Pets 2007 and through the magic of the Internet, choose the best pet this year. People would then vote on them, and the points generated by the voting would be donated to Mateo and McHale’s mom and dad for their honeymoon.

Like all great ideas and good causes, it worked. The nominations flooded in, and eventually 64 pets set out on the Tournament. Their owners submitted pictures and essays about a variety of topics, and rallied the rest of Gather to vote. The pets competed through rounds, just like the NCAA Tournament, and in brackets. It was a lot of work for the owners (not so much for the pets, who just had to be themselves.)

I’m not going to recap all the great entrants here; you can go see them on Gather, where I’ve kept all the essays up with the pictures. This isn’t about all the competitors, it’s about the one that won:
Casey, The Best Pet 2007.


Casey is owned by Lisa Coan, who wants you to know that in addition to Casey, she loves loons. Lisa also loves string cheese and scrapbooking. Learn more about her by clicking on that link and reading some of her stuff on Gather.

Lisa deserves your recognition, since Casey’s victory as Best Pet 2007 was spurred on in part by Lisa’s efforts, not just by Casey’s looks and talent. Lisa had to write the essays for each round. The theme for one round was to say why the entered pet was better than something, anything – the entrants had to pick the thing and say why it was inferior to their pets. Here’s what Lisa and Casey submitted:

My pet is better than pain medicine because he soothes my pain by kissing it away"

"My pet is better than a cloudy day because he brings sunshine into my life just by his smile"



"My pet is better than popcorn because he loves to share it with me everytime"

"My pet is better than water because his swimming and retrieving is so joyful to watch"

"My pet is better than friends because he never says a harsh word"

"My pet is better than relatives because he never has expectations"



"My pet is better than the computer because he shows me true unconditional love"


How could you top that? Better than popcorn, relatives, and water? Better than computers? Those are great.
But Lisa and Casey outdid themselves, because the final competition required them to create a holiday celebrating Casey. So henceforth, here is how we will celebrate Casey’s Day:

If there were a holiday just for Casey, we would celebrate it by inviting all of his doggie friends and doggie neighbors and going to the off-leash dog park.

We would celebrate with fancy-made dog treats and bottled water. We would have cupcakes (Casey loves cupcakes - we have them every year for the dog's birthdays), party hats, and toys for all the dogs to play with.


We would spend time playing fetch with all the dogs and walking around the trails. We would then spend time down by the lake letting the dogs that like to swim have time swimming and retrieving. Those that don't like to swim can play by the shoreline. We would then go play on the hay bales where the dogs can jump and play going up and down between the bales of hay running and jumping from one to another.

We would have an obstacle course set up for the dogs so they could play with their parents trying to master some of the obstacles. Most of these dogs are "family" dogs so it would be fun to see if any of them could do any of the obstacles. At the end of our day, each dog will be sent home with a special doggie gift bag full of goodies just for them.



That day sounds great to me. It would beat most other holidays. (Hello, Arbor Day? I’m looking at you.)

Casey faced stiff competition. There were cats, dogs, a tarantula, something that I think might have been a mouse. As you can guess, all of the animals (yes, even the tarantula) were not only loved by their owners but were lovable and interesting, and the response that Tournament of Pets generated was great, and helped the Shaws a bit.
I didn't know what to expect when I started Tournament of Pets. I hoped that it would be popular, and I hoped that it would do some good. What I never considered was just how much people love their pets, and how much people love other people's pets, and how much people love other people, too. The outpouring of excitement and fun and attention to each other and concern for the Shaws was great. I loved seeing the pictures and reading the essays and watching the voting, and I loved that the charity part of it seemed to add to the interest and fun for the entrants and voters.
And I loved that in a small way, it maybe made a difference in some people's lives. We all spend most of our time talking about how great our pets are anyway, and dreaming of spending a day swimming and playing fetch with them. Through Tournament of Pets, a lot of people were able to help a great family by doing what we do anyway. It made our lives seem a little more special.
Casey's victory helped sum that up. Lisa's entries that I've pulled out here show why the combination of pets and charity was so potent. Pets can help ease our pain, can share our lives, add to our fun, and show us unconditional love without expecting anything in return.
And we, at our best, can help ease the pain, share our lives, add to someone's fun, and show unconditional love without expecting anything in return. Our pets encapsulate and reflect what is The Best in all of us. The Best Pet really shows those qualities that make for great human beings, too.
Congratulations, Casey, on being The Best Pet 2007.

Monday, September 24, 2007

The Best mp3 Site

Okay, so it’s long been established that I’m cheap. I don’t like to spend money. That probably comes from never having had any money – after moving out of my parents’ house, my jobs ranged from cashier at a gas station to cashier at a sub shop, with brief forays into ushering at a movie theater and one sad day as a waiter at a restaurant that served mainly breakfast to the kind of people who eat long breakfasts on weekdays on the east side of cities and are drunk (or maybe stoned) by the time breakfast rolls around, so their breakfasts involve alcohol, making obscure jokes to their waiter (me) who doesn’t get them, and leaving a tip that was nowhere near worth it.

By the time I had a job that earned some money – my current one – I also had a massive amount of debt from student loans used not just to finance college and law school but an ill-advised (albeit fascinating and scary) trip to Morocco. And I have five kids. So I’ve never been what you would consider flush with cash, and likely never will be.

But I am what you would consider flush with a love of new music, and unheard music and rare artists and things that others have never heard of so that I can say I discovered them. And after discovering them, I can mostly keep them to myself. While I frequently bemoan the fact that my tastes in music, books, TV, movies, clothes, etc., are not popular, secretly, I actually like that. I like that not everyone gets my music, books, TV, movies, clothes, etc., because it makes me think that people are just not as cool as me, not as hip as me, not as intelligent as me, not as sensitive as me. They don’t get it because they’re not as anything as me.

That’s how I got through high school, by the way. That was why the girls didn’t like me. It had nothing to do with being about 100 pounds overweight, or the spiky hair or the comic books or the D&D. It was all about being so good that girls didn’t like me.

So while I appreciate it when my music occasionally breaks through – like when the Violent Femmes get their music into a commercial



(although I do not appreciate it when a cool song like “Melt With You” gets used for a Taco Bell commercial because (a) I’ve never liked Taco Bell ever since someone spread a rumor about the one down the street from the movie theater I worked at and (b) the commercial with “Melt With You” is all about melting cheese and the way they film the people eating burritos and stretching the melty cheese, it looks like snot coming out of the people’s nose) I would actually be horrified if my music was to suddenly become super-popular to the point where it was overplayed and stopped being so cool. Overplaying things, any overexposure, always makes things uncool. Look at Steve Carell.

(And, on that note, I’ve learned that instant access to songs that I like can make me like them less. Here’s a partial list of songs that I’ve always loved and now that they're on my iPod I’m kind of over them: Ballroom Blitz, Come Sail Away, Modern Love, Faith, The Lion Sleeps Tonight, Peanut Butter Jelly Time… I take that last one back. I’ll never get tired of that song.)



Never.

Back to the subject. With little money and a love of obscure songs, the Internet has been a blessing to me. I mean, yeah, the easy access to information, yeah, the instant communications around the world, blah blah blah. What the Internet has really meant is free music from obscure bands. I have discovered bands I might never have known existed because they don’t make it into Entertainment Weekly.

(And another side note: I have less time these days for reading magazines and decided to cancel two of the three subscriptions I had. Previously, I subscribed to Newsweek, Discover, and Entertainment Weekly. Only the last one survived.)

(Also, I don’t read anything in the Sunday paper anymore except the comics, and the sports section.)

Without the Internet, and helpful people posting their songs on the Internet for me to download, I would not have discovered hundreds of great bands including The New Pornographers, Allison Crowe, Adam Chikushin Tucker, The Apparitions, or my current favorite (who I’m listening to right now), Joe Henry.

And before you artists and copyright lawyers get all mad, let me add: first, I only download legally, and second, I make it a point to get out and buy CDs from the artists who I decide I like. So the free sample of music serves its purpose: I discover them and then they make some money off of me.

But we music downloaders know that there’s a lot of information out there, a lot of songs, a lot of sites, a lot of crummy bands trying to suck you into using precious disk space on your computer and iPod to store their crummy songs. And you’ve got to sort through them, be judicious, not download just anyone because the songs will get lost in the shuffle (literally) and you’ll have to keep skipping over junk just to get to, say, a song from Say Hi To Your Mom.



That’s where the music bloggers come in. They do the work for me, and for all of us, and sort out what’s good and what’s bad and post it and link to it and generally let me save some time by going to their sites and seeing what they’ve found for me. And I’ve spent a lot of time going through the music blogs, and deciding which ones were worth visiting and which ones were not.

I’ll give a few nods to some of the good ones before getting to The Best, so you can check them out yourself. I don’t know much about them other than what I tell you here; I don’t read about the bloggers, I go there for the music. But I like Muruch, a new one I’ve found. You’ll find ethereal, generally quieter and somewhat obscure music there – like Petra Haden’s version of Don’t Stop Believing. I also like 3Hive, which posts a really eclectic set of music and has pretty good descriptions of the songs that are generally trustworthy. They get a little chatty, but who am I to knock someone for that? Music For Robots tends to lean towards the obscure rocker end of things, and has some really interesting selections. And for British invasion, there’s no beating Headphone Sex, which is where I found the band Bromhead’s Jacket, which is the best of the British “lad rock” bands.



Those are just a few of the 20 or so sites I skim through on Sunday mornings when I used to read the paper, looking for the next new thing and updating music for my jaded ears. But they all pale in comparison to The Best of the mp3 sites, Fingertips.

Fingertips each week puts up “This Week’s Finds”, a post of just three songs per week. But what a set of songs! Each week I go there and download the three songs selected without any hesitation. I don’t know what the guy who writes it does or how he does it, but he has an uncanny knack for finding the absolute best songs out there. I can hardly think of a song I downloaded from his site and did not like. And you don’t have to skim through 15, 20, 30 songs to find a couple that sound interesting, or wade through lengthy posts, or pictures. It’s just the three new songs, each week.

What sets Fingertips apart, too, are the descriptions of the music. He posted the song “The Underdog” by Spoon, and not only was the song great, but he mentioned in the blurb about the song that they had a complex bit of clapping in it (he gave the actual time of the song that it would happen) and I was cued in to listen to it and he was right, and it actually very much contributed to my enjoyment of the song.

Here’s Fingertips’ description of the song I just now actually downloaded from the site, “Summer’s Ending,” by Steve Goldberg:

Well okay summer has actually already ended, but just barely, and in any case the indelible complexion of late summer/early fall is delightfully embodied in the words, the music, and the spirit of this charming song. The bittersweet cello that leads into the first verse--with its singular way of sounding upbeat and sad at the same time--is just a hint of the tuneful orchestral treat the Pittsburgh-based Goldberg has in store for us, with its nicely incorporated string, woodwind, and brass parts. I like how, even so, the guitar and drums--the only "normal" rock instruments on display--are still given their due; the guitar plays an important textural role, and the drums are woven into a larger percussive sound with a nifty sort of homespun finesse. And boy was this homespun: the self-titled album from which this comes was recorded over eight months as Goldberg's senior project as a music student at Carnegie Mellon University; all the musicians on the album (a total of 22 instruments employed) were CMU students as well. Goldberg even sang into a microphone that was custom-built by an electrical engineering student. And perhaps it took an actual college student to so evocatively capture summer's end, with its looming, double-edged departure scenes ("I couldn't wait to leave/But now I want to stay"). Kind of gets you right in the stomach. The CD is available via Goldberg's web site, as is the MP3.

I have a love of good writing, and This Week’s Finds displays that, capturing in one paragraph enough information about the song, the artist, and the feeling it conveys, to make me want to listen to the song even if I just didn’t automatically download whatever he tells me to. I love the use of the phrase “indelible complexion” and “looming, double-edged departure scenes.”

I also broke my rule and tried to find out a little about the blogger behind the music. Here's what Fingertips has to say about its creator:


Fingertips is designed, written, edited, and nourished by Jeremy Schlosberg. All mistakes are his, all dead links are his responsibility (but don't expect them to be fixed overnight!), and everything that he says is great that you think is not so wonderful, well, what the heck. "It's a strange and beautiful world..."

Then, when you click through his name, you get:

Jeremy Schlosberg is a writer, editor, and playwright with 20 years of experience writing for a wide variety of national publications, including the New York Times, GQ, Salon, Smart Money, Utne Reader, Lingua Franca, Parenting, and others too numerous (and, often, obscure) to mention.Jeremy's love of music dates back to epiphanies experienced while listening to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road in Junior High School. You know, it wasn't a bad place to start. Soon enough Blood on the Tracks came along; by the time of This Year's Model, an abiding love for intelligent, passionate music had taken root. While he has largely steered clear of writing about music professionally, occasionally the opportunities have arisen. Musicians he has interviewed over the years include Jane Siberry, Dar Williams, Lucinda Williams, and the late, great Kirsty MacColl.You may email Jeremy via this page.

(I actually also only assumed that “Fingertips” was a "him", which might be kind of sexist of me, but that’s me: I ride my own melt.)(Plus, I was right. Is it sexist if you’re right?)

So it's not surprising that Fingertips is well written, given that background. And, it seems, it should not be surprising that I like the music Fingertips picks out, since one of the earliest albums I owned was an 8-track that included "Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road," too. (I also owned Supertramp's Breakfast in America.)

The world is a large and confusing place. It’s the kind of place where you think, as a kid, that you’re going to want to travel the world after you get done working at all the fast food restaurants, but then you end up in Morocco eating a sheep’s eyeball and getting a gun pointed at you. It’s also the kind of world where thousands of bands are posting millions of songs, a dizzying array of music that would overwhelm even the most diligent music-surfer. In that kind of a world, it’s nice to know that you can always live in the suburbs of Wisconsin eating Ranch Pops, and it’s nice to know that someone out there will post, each week, the exact three songs you want to hear right then. Thanks, Fingertips, for doing that. It makes you The Best mp3 Site.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

The Best Game Show

I am resigned to the fact that the only way I will ever get rich is if someone just gives me the money.

Not through my education, which given the way the interest on my student loans keeps compounding is not only the most expensive thing I’ve ever done but will also continue to keep costing me money for years.

Not through my hard work, since I rarely do any hard work and much of the time I spend “working” is actually spent writing entries like this, which has a way of keeping billable hours down. That and my clients rarely see the need to pay me.

With hard work and education out as sources of riches, that leaves luck and knowledge. Which means the lottery or game shows.

I’m already playing the lottery as much as I can ($2 per week, about – a big chunk of the allowance Sweetie gives me), so game shows are the last frontier for me, the only way that I stand to get rich in my own lifetime, to have a lifestyle that involves no alarm clocks, no ties, no traffic jams, and a lot of traveling, hotels, continental breakfasts, and plenty of time to read so that The Ministry of Special Cases does not sit for weeks on the dresser by my bed, slowly gathering rings from the baby bottles which get set on it each night when both A and B wake up at the same time and Sweetie has to get me to give one of them a bottle, too, after a few sips of which the twin I'm holding falls asleep, so I set the bottle aside on the only open spot on my dresser: the shelf where the book I’m reading sits. Or, I should say, the book I would be reading except that I rarely spend time reading because I’m usually exhausted from those all-nighters with A and B, and when I’m not exhausted, I have TIVO which is set to record a variety of great TV shows including
Three’s Company and, now, Torchwood, which I watched last night and which looks really, really good, not least because the previews for the second episode made it look as though they’re going to hunt an alien that makes people want to have sex. Sex and aliens. Think of it. It’s the perfect combination for a TV show. Or an invasion of the Earth, because we'd let them.




While you think of that, also think of this: Why was it still called Three's Company after Chrissy moved out, and Terry moved in and Cindy kept coming around?

If I was rich, I would have all the time in the world to watch Torchwood and read The Ministry of Special Cases and still spend some time with the family. But getting rich, like I said, means that I will have to, I think, win a game show.

(Or sell my latest idea for a TV show. My longtime fans – well, fan—okay, Sweetie and anyone who happened to stumble across this blog through some weird search – know that I wrote a sitcom that will someday be a great hit [you can read the pilot here] but I also the other day on the way home from work had a genius idea for another sitcom that would make me rich just on the concept, plus I’d cast A and B in it and get rich off of them, too, but not in a creepy Joe Simpson way; in the good-stage-parent way, except that I can’t think of an example of a good stage parent, so I might have to be the first.

The idea is this: Fuller House. It’s a simple premise: Ashley (Ashley Olsen) is suddenly widowed in a non-scary/non-threatening way and is left with identical twin boys and some girls to raise. So she asks her identical twin sister Mary Kate (Mary Kate Olsen) to move in and help her – but Mary Kate brings her would-be filmmaker fiancé with her, and he sells the family's life as a reality series that he's directing.



This is genius, I know. Sweetie claimed it wasn’t and that it was the plot of Hope and Faith. I don’t know how she would know that, since nobody has ever watched Hope and Faith, but I checked on IMDB and that’s not the plot at all. So it would work.

And you naysayers who point out that Ashley and Mary Kate played one person on the original Full House and so it doesn't make sense to cast them as twin sisters on some kind of continuation which doesn't even include Bob Saget because I don't like him, he almost keeps me from watching How I Met Your Mother, but not quite because I don't have to see him, too, can just be quiet. It’s TV. It doesn’t have to make sense.)

But until that idea, or my other sitcom, gets picked up, I’m stuck with game shows. And I thought I would get rich off one game show in particular a while back, one of only two game shows I’ve ever tried to get on. I don’t bother with the newest game shows out – Deal or No Deal, The Power of 10, whatever else is out there. These game shows don’t require any knowledge at all, so far as I can tell. Deal or No Deal requires only luck, or seems to require only luck, since the contestants the one night I watched it seemed completely incapable of grasping the concept of the odds that the briefcase had $1,000,000 in it when that was one of 10 remaining choices and the other 9 all were $100 or less; and were simultaneously incapable of grasping the concept of “a bird in the hand…”

No, I like game shows that require skill and knowledge, and not the weird knowledge you need for things like Wheel of Fortune. “Before and After” my butt. Who would ever come up with "Tom Cruise Missile" as the answer to a puzzle? I’m looking to showcase and use real knowledge, or at least real trivial knowledge, and that means that I tried out – many many times – for Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?

When that show had its first go-round with Regis, I and the family watched it religiously because it was a lot of fun and gave even non-smart people a chance with the multiple choice and all. And I was a natural for the show, I figured, because I was (am) really smart, and because I really wanted to be a millionaire. So I constantly, whenever I could, called that number they had and took the test and on three separate occasions I passed the test and they said that someone would call me the next day if I was selected to go on to the next round – in New York! With Sweetie there! With lifelines back home!

And each time I waited and waited and didn’t let anyone use the phone and worried when people did call that somehow the call waiting would not work and I’d miss Millionaire’s call – really, I did worry that – and each time Millionaire failed to call me.

I was crushed. It is so much worse to nearly qualify and then not get picked for the next round than to not qualify. “Better to have loved and lost” is not true. Remember that guy whose friends tricked him into thinking he won the lottery by taping the numbers from the day before? I always felt kind of like that. (And if I was that guy, by the way, those friends would have been thrown out a window. That is the least funny joke I can imagine.)

So Millionaire, with its great questions and increasing level of difficulty, and even some strategy, and lifelines, and all, could have been The Best Game Show. But they broke my heart. And I can’t forgive that.

Millionaire’s betrayal returned me to my first love: Jeopardy!. I’ve always loved Jeopardy!. I love the buzzer, the questions, the categories (Potent Potables? Great!), the round where the scores can really change, Mustache-Trebek, bareface-Trebek, Final Jeopardy!, writing on the screen. But you know what I really love about Jeopardy!? The snob appeal. The fact that only smart people really love Jeopardy! and do well at it.



When I was in law school, my roommate and I used to compete at Jeopardy!, which is exactly the geeky kind of law school thing you’d expect pre-lawyers to do. He’d keep score, and we had rules – you could not answer before Alex finished reading the question, even though we had both read it already, and you had to answer in the form of a question, and we even disallowed lame questions like if you said “Who is 1984?” which is technically a question but a dumb one, so it didn’t count.

We competed like that to show each other that we were smarter, which is probably 99% of the reason someone watches Jeopardy!. I’ll admit it: it’s more fun for me to watch the show around people so I can rattle off answers and impress them.

Jeopardy! is the most challenging of all the game shows because it strives for that snob appeal. Have you ever taken the test to get on the show? My college exams were easier. Sometimes I watch and get one or two answers right the entire show. There’s no multiple choice, here, either. You know it or you don’t – no help. Just like life, in fact, if life required that you know the document that was the predecessor to the Constitution (and can quickly recall that information in the form of a question.)

(It’s What are the Articles of Confederation?, by the way, and when my roommate and I competed you’d have to ask it that way. If you said What IS the Articles of Confederation? you were wrong because “articles” is plural.)

But don’t think you just have to be able to spout esoteric information (not trivia, either; they ask real categories.) You also have to be able to consider how much to wager on Daily Doubles, and you have to gauge your knowledge of a category and make your Final Jeopardy! wager before even seeing the question. Alex will tell the players (and us at home) that the category is “Big Band Singers,” and you’ll think I’ve got this and wager all of it,

but all you really know is Frank Sinatra, and suddenly you’re faced with “He was known as the man who taught American to sing” and you’re stumped but the guy next to you is frantically writing “Who is Fred Waring?” and he’s right and you’ve got to hope that your wager, leaving you with $10,001, is enough to keep you ahead of him because who bets all his winnings?

It’s that strategy and calculation on top of all the information you need that puts Jeopardy! over the top in the end, because it lets geeks like me prove not just that they know more, but that they can outmaneuver the other nerds.

Jeopardy! has other points going for it beyond it’s ability to let me show off the one talent that a lifetime of comic books and D&D has left me with. It also has made its way into the pop culture as a test of smarts– remember, on Seinfeld, that time that George became a genius because he stopped having sex? How did he prove he was smart? By watching Jeopardy! and answering the questions.

Plus, Jeopardy! has spawned one of the very few memorable and funny Saturday Night Live skits. Will Ferrell’s Alex Trebek hosting celebrity Jeopardy! still makes me laugh just thinking about it.



A final reason why Jeopardy! is The Best Game Show: That exclamation point. It’s not just oh, hey, Jeopardy’s on. It’s This! Is! Jeopardy! The exclamation point, by the way, beats the tar out of Millionaire's question mark. (I told you. Broke my heart.)

I know that Jeopardy! doesn’t pay as well as that harlot, Millionaire, but it offers more snob appeal and has always been there for me and never led me on, not even the one time I was able to try to qualify, since I had to take a test and I apparently did not pass because they never notified me that they’d give me a chance to the second round. Jeopardy! hasn’t been flooded onto the airwaves, has not been handed over to not-Katie-Couric, has not been switched from prime time to mid-afternoon just before Ellen, and has not, in any significant way, changed itself. Even Wheel of Fortune has modified its puzzles, and eliminated the shopping with prize money.

Jeopardy! just keeps cruising along, with its columns of answers and Audio Daily Doubles and that awesome theme song. It will just keep cruising along, I imagine, timelessly putting its answers out there for you to respond to in the form of a question.

And someday, I’m sure, one of those answers will be He made his first billion when his “Fuller House” became an overnight sensation on television.

Remember to respond in the form of a question.

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