Part of the description of this column includes the idea that it is geared toward the everyday artist — the artists who keep on doing their thing regardless of relative anonymity. I’m one of them. We walk this world from top to bottom and we keep at it even though nothing seems to be coming of it, especially financially. Still, there must be a reward of some kind, or we would just give up. [Read more →]
In sports, we love to build up our heroes and tear down everyone else. Often, we even tear down the heroes, to be honest. It is easy to find fault in just about any athlete, especially for those of us whose signature athletic move is to get off the couch every once in a while. Sure, the guys who bring our favorite teams a lot of success are easy to put on pedestals. When those guys are found to be less than admirable in some way, though, we have a dilemma. It’s hard to forget all of the wins and the excitement, while it is also hard to ignore the reality of some kind of wrongdoing. The Ohio State University, as well as the massive sports infrastructure that surrounds it, seems to be struggling this way in the wake of the scandals that rocked the football program this past year. [Read more →]
10. It’s so expensive, gas stations now have a concierge service
9. It’s so expensive, oil companies have actually started inspecting their offshore rigs
8. It’s so expensive, SUV now stands for Stationary Unused Vehicle
7. It’s so expensive, drivers are shooting themselves instead of each other
6. It’s so expensive, Oprah’s audience gave their cars back
5. It’s so expensive, if you ask for five dollars worth, the attendant will just fart, and then ask if you want a receipt
4. It’s so expensive, clowns are now cramming themselves onto a bicycle
3. It’s so expensive, a gallon of Starbucks is cheaper
2. It’s so expensive, the Indy 500 is now a foot race
1. It’s so expensive, the Amish are carrying signs that say “We Told You So!”
Bob Sullivan’s Top Ten Everything appears every Monday.
Dateline DC: This city of swamprats in custom suits is a limbo, a purgatory occassionally slipping into hell. It is the capitol and first city of the Wild East, edging out New York with baroque corruption more obscene than hundred dollar parking if only because the scales of loot and depravity are orders of magnitude larger. Why? For the same reason Willie Sutton robbed banks, rather than lemonade stands. It’s where the money is.
Cornell Jones is no villain, or at least not here. Lifetime criminal though he be, he is at least an honest one, hijacking his hoard with an iron fist and an open gun instead of a soothing word and a hidden dagger. Still, even he was not above getting his hands dirty in Washington politics, [Read more →]
I am a fairly laid-back, low-key person. It takes a lot to get me riled up. This attitude has generally served me well. It’s only on very rare occasions that I become angry; only twice in my adult life have I ever actually been angry enough to yell at someone (yelling at sporting events, rooting on my favorite athletic performers, does not count). Generally, if I’ve been wronged – and it does happen occasionally – I forget it pretty quickly and move on with my life.
It’s not something I spend a lot of time on, but I do concoct revenge scenarios. [Read more →]
Ah, the unpredictable world of the dictator. One minute you’re a living god with a gold toilet, multiple palaces and a personal bodyguard of nubile female ninjas, and then the next it’s all over, as if all that splendor was nothing more than a very long – and mostly quite pleasant – dream.
Such is the reality Muammar Gaddafi finds himself inhabiting right now. Until recently he was not only the planet’s most famous colonel (after the guy who makes fried chicken, of course) but also Africa’s longest reigning head of state. Less than nine months ago he was still being feted by world leaders and fawned over by a prestigious English university hungry for oil money. His children enjoyed expensive educations at European and American institutions. And what about those tender, personal moments spent leafing through his album of Condoleezza Rice portraits? [Read more →]
At first, I was greatly entertained. Joseph Epstein, a considerable talent and first rate intellect in his own right, had taken the time to make new enemies by the score among the reigning academic elite, with a single critical review of the recent Cambridge History of the American Novel. But then, having read it and wanting to savor the piece, I found myself overcome by a deeper depression. [Read more →]
Forgetting English
