Harry Potter in 3 Minutes

Note: If you haven't read all seven Harry Potter books and don't want to know what happens (or don't care, for that matter), I suggest you stop reading. Otherwise, knock yourself out, you silly Muggle.

1981
Snape:	So I made this really big mistake and I kind of need a new job.
Dumbledore:	No problem. What job do you want?
Snape:	Umm... How about Defense Against the Dark Arts?
Dumbledore:	Let me get back to you on that.

No wonder he's always so cheerful

Eleven years later...

BOOK 1
Dumbledore:	Nice job on protecting Harry when Quirrell tried knocking him off his broom.
Snape:	Yeah, about that. I think Quirrel might be after that stone. You should probably do something about it.
Dumbledore:	No worries. I left some very ambiguous hints to an 11 year old child. It should all pan out in the end.

BOOK 2
Snape:	So... some of the students are... almost dying. You should really do something about this.
Dumbledore:	Yeah... I think I'll just wait it out until the government suspends me. That should spark something into action.
Snape:	Riiiiiiiight.

BOOK 3
Dumbledore:	I've got some great news about the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.
Snape:	After 13 years of empty promises, you're finally going to give it to me?
Dumbledore:	What? Hell, no. I hired one of your old school buddies: Remus Lupin.
Snape:	You mean the werewolf who almost killed me?
Dumbledore:	Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Good times.

BOOK 4
Snape:	Umm... so that mark on my arm is back again.
Dumbledore:	Oh yeah? Why don't you go and check in with your old friends. I'd like to know if they plan on roughing up my boy Harry.
Snape:	You mean just pop in for a visit with an evil group I once betrayed? They'll probably kill me on sight.
Dumbledore:	Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.

The man who best understands the phrase "Dead-End Job"

BOOK 5
Dumbledore:	So thanks for risking your life for a kid who hates your guts... and whose father hated your guts... and whose godfather almost got you killed by that werewolf... and whose mom-
Snape:	I get it! What now?
Dumbledore:	I need you to give that kid some extra lessons to make sure he's safe.
Snape:	Fine.
Later...
Harry:	My mortal enemy has your mortal enemy and is torturing him. Help him! You know, even though we both still hate you.
Snape (to himself):	Jesus. Do I have to do everything? One day someone will write a book about this crap and finally I'll be the hero.
JK Rowling	Umm... not exactly.

BOOK 6
Snape:	You want me to do what?!?
Dumbledore:	Don't be such a bitch about it. I doubt the issue will ever even come up.
Later, Harry chases Snape, casting curse after curse at him. Snape deflects each of them but does not retalitate.
Harry:	I HATE YOU! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!
Snape:	Nobody hurt him! He doesn't really mean that.

BOOK 7
Dumbledore:	I think Harry might need a sword. You'd better risk your neck again and get it to him, but do it in a mysterious and overly complex way. I like things like that.
Snape:	This is the last time I help this little brat.
JK Rowling:	Last time, indeed. **winks** Hey, remember that girl you were in love with in high school and never got with? I bet that still hurts, huh? Life's so funny sometimes.
Harry:	Whoa.. HELP me?!? What has he ever done to help me?

Harry Potter & the Sar Chasm

At last, the seventh and final Harry Potter book hit stores this weekend. And since you don't like reading - who does? - I'll do you a favor and give you the highlights so you can sound semi-intelligent at the water cooler this week.

Potheads for Potter
Few were surprised when prankster twins Fred and George Weasley transformed their wizard joke shop into a drug paraphernalia store, renaming the shop Weasley's Wacky Weed Warehouse. However, Fred's opium addiction and his subsequent battles through rehab were no laughing matter - a harsh lesson no reader will soon forget.

The 'Other' Hogwarts
Back in book 5, fans were treated with visitors from two other wizard schools, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. But much to readers' surprise, we quickly learn that there is a second British school of magic - albeit with less prestige and grandeur than Hogwarts.

The Russell B. Jackson Vocational School of Magik does not have the famous alumni nor the generous endowments as its counterpart, but it is still a good place for at-risk wizards and witches to get a solid education. Secondhand wands and discounted textbooks can be just as good as any of the tools Hogwarts has to offer. Located just over the tracks of the Hogwarts Express, each September finds excited students taking a wondrous and sometimes lengthy journey from train to bus to trolley to reach the school. It too has a Quidditch field, although the trolley tracks running across the south end make it nigh impossible to complete a match without interruption.

RBJ has been spared the excitement and adventure that Hogwarts has hosted the past 6 years, but that doesn't last long. As the Weasleys face financial difficulties and struggle to make tuition payments, Ron and Ginny find themselves enrolled at the lesser-known institution for a semester. They may be able to handle giant spiders and the ghosts of dark wizards, but will they be able to handle classmates strung out on Riddelin (the magic world equivalent of our well known ADHD pharmaceutical)? Female students begin disappearing at an alarming rate, each under the suspicious guise of "visiting a sick aunt". Something foul is afoot and you can be sure the gang is ready to solve the mystery.

Marital Bliss
Book 6 promised that there was a wedding in the works for the final installment. But who could have guessed that muscle-head cronies Crabbe and Goyle would run off to San Francisco and declare their love for one another in a touching civil ceremony? I, for one, always thought them to be more of an east-coast gay couple - which would have landed them in the semi-tolerant woods of Massachusetts. Just when you think you know somebody...

the boy who cried

The Chosen One... For Prime Time
And finally, the big questions get answered after ten long years of wondering, hypothesizing and guessing. Would Harry defeat his nemesis Voldemort? Would he die heroically attempting to save mankind from evil? Once again, the pen of the talented Mrs. Rowling spun an outcome no one could have predicted.

Instead of dueling to the death, Voldemort and Harry come to find that the two of them are much more alike than either could have guessed. They end up moving in together and their unlikely friendship takes them to Hollywood where they develop their tale into a successful NBC sitcom called "Tom & Harry."

A mature Haley Joel Osment plays Harry Potter with the role of Voldemort / Tom Riddle garnering several Emmy awards for Ashton Kutcher. The public lovingly adopts the shows catchphrases, such as "Cat got your Snitch?" and "Don't forget who gave you that scar!"

Shallow Materialism Makes Me Sick

It's ridiculous. Are things the true source of happiness? We've always got to have the latest and greatest? It just sounds like trouble.

The Apple / AT&T birthing of the iPhone is only the latest "must have" for compulsive consumers. But it's no different than things were for Motorola's Razr. The original iPod. Sliced Bread. Everyone wanted to have it and be seen having it before they even knew exactly what it was for.

When Playstation3 came out, I hit the streets to document the madness. People setting up chairs and tents outside their local Best Buy and Target to secure their place in line. And to secure their fate of dying miserable and alone. But also dying with a swanky video game system that was all the rage for a few weeks.

And so the iPhone is just the latest. Think back 15 years. Nobody had cellphones. A few people had beepers but that just meant they were drug dealers. So if you tried to tell me then that the media, technophiles and even the common Jane Jones' would be foaming at the mouth over a phone - a $600 phone at that!!! - I would not have been able to contemplate it... $600. For a phone. Has the whole world gone mad?

And indeed it has. Despite the hefty price tag (~$600+) - or maybe even because of it - many are speculating that the iPhone will be gobbled up as the hottest accessory for the sexy-rich. Apparently, nothing the phone actually does seems to matter. Just how it looks. Or that other people want it. Or that some people can't have it. I don't even know.

It turns out that on the day of the launch, I found myself eating lunch at the mall. One could not fail to notice the serpentine queue at least 100 people deep, wrapping though the halls - all leading to the Apple store. Even with all the hype leading up, I felt like the predictions were way off. There wasn't a single attractive person in line. Every last one of them was ass ugly. Ass. Ugly. They must have had some decent cash but it was obvious they weren't spending it on clothes, unsightly hair removal and the reconstructive facial surgery they so clearly needed.

It's just more sad than anything. I mean people get shot over our obsessions with these toys. Seriously? I just think about people living decades or centuries ago. They worked hard on farms all day long, free of all our gadgetry. Can we actually call our current state "human progress? Can we really say we are living a more meaningful life than our ancestors? I just don't know...

PS. I got one. Jealous.

Jailbird Paris

As you must have heard by now, hotel heiress Paris Hilton is going to jail. The real crime here is that when the Hollywood courts finally put a celebrity in jail, they pick one for driving with a suspended license and not one of the many who have murdered someone (IE OJ, Robert Blake, Phil Spector). Nice.

I wonder what's going to happen with all of this. I wonder... wonder... wonder... (cue daydream sequence)

FRIENDS
I'm betting that the first thing she'll do is try to bargain her way out. Her strongest survival instinct is to spend. She'll probably use this to try to shave some time off her sentence.

"Hey. Jail guy. You're hot. If you let me out, I could buy you..."
"Buy me what?"
"That's it. I could buy you. I bought that Jerry Maguire kid for, like, ten grand. You look like a few hundred bucks."

I do think it weird to imagine Paris Hilton in a jail cell with a common (aka non-famous) criminal. My biggest worry is that there won't be a camera to capture it all. At first I thought that the stick-thin billionaire would be the one at risk. But now I fear for her cellmate. I suspect that Paris will probably get into her cell and immediately start gabbing like a pre-teen at summer camp. Gucci this. Martha's Vineyard that. Colin Farrell's scurvy. I give the cellmate three hours before she poisons herself with a bar of soap. Poor murderer.

FAITH
And like any celebrity rehabilitation, Paris will most likely emerge as a supposedly changed woman, ready to abandon the selfish and sinful ways of her past. For a few days, tops. As soon as she gets out, she'll probably make a statement like:

"I have converted to Muslimism. I am no longer Paris Hilton. That is my slave name. To reflect my new relationship with Allah, I have renamed myself Aspen Hilton. But you may call me Tania."

FASHION
I doubt this episode will do much to hurt her popularity though. I wouldn't be surprised if the 'Paris Hilton trend-setting phenomenon' was given a boost, too. Just imagine, teenage girls across the country start wearing leg irons and orange jumpsuits. Not to be outdone, Paris will go one better by cutting off the sleeves and legs and altering it with a very low bust line. Fashion junkies will start committing crimes just so they can have access to the authentic garb: "I just have to get my hands on one of those outfits. They're soooo hot."

I think the very worst that can come from all of this is that the family business could be affected.

"Hey Daddy? Remember when you said you needed a cheaper design for the new hotel rooms? You should check out the rooms at the place I just stayed at. Super cheap. They cut out all the pricey stuff. Like carpeting and doors with hinges and bathrooms. They just put the potty right next to the bed. The bunk beds. Aren't poor people funny?"

They'll call it "The Paris Hilton Overnight Experience" and it will go for $300 a night. You know people would pay for it.

Talking bout Our Generation

I have no idea where this came from. Somewhere in the cluttered garage that is my brain I guess. You know how I am.

With our parents' generation, it was the JFK assassination and the moon landing. Everybody has a story for "where you were when..." And that 'when' is always the same moment. It bonds strangers in a way no other conversation can.

But it works a little differently for us. Over the course of my days, I see two events that keep coming up. Events that I have witnessed to make instant friends out of complete strangers. Backgrounds and cultural differences disappear as everyone seems to share the same lasting shock and emotion towards these happenings. Interestingly enough, one is reserved exclusively for each of the sexes - neither quite seeing the importance in the other event.

the new vintage

Don't ask me why. But all guys seem to remember the day they walked into the mall, headed towards their beloved Structure clothing store and stopped dead in their tracks at the site of a placard that read, "Coming Soon... Men's Express!"

And I have proof. Whenever I wear one of the 2-3 Structure items I have left, someone always makes note of it. Some guys even grab the label and beg me, "Where did you get this? Is there a store left? Are they coming back?" And without a word from me, they begin to share their tragic story. "It was the first place I bought clothes without my mom... And it was the only store I shopped at... It's where I was reunited with my real father. Why, man? Why did they have to change it?"

It is the only clothing-related anything I've ever seen garner emotion from heterosexual men. And it seems like it affects all heterosexual men.

For just about every girl in our generation, it is a single television event for which an unexplainable bond exists.

Two girls could be at each other's throats, tears and fists flying. Awful names and accusations causing more hurt than any kick or punch ever could. And yet, to extinguish the violence, all anyone has to do is mention the time Felicity cut her hair. And every girl in the room will immediately embrace each other (still crying) and reminisce about that awful time in their lives.

It sounds strange, but it's true. Even girls who never watched the show were affected by one woman's drastic action. And that woman is Felicity, NOT the portraying actress, Keri Russell. Keri Russell had nothing to do with this. It was Felicity's hair that was butchered. Her "beautiful, gorgeous" hair. The devotion to that woman's hair by other females astounds me to do this day.

This isn't one of those fashion police, "What was she thinking?" type of moments. It's more like, "How could she do that..." ::then whispering:: "... to me?" Girls are personally offended by it. Almost to the point of feeling violated. Without exaggeration, they honestly feel as though it was their own hair that was chopped... in the middle of the night... by an oppressive father figure... or evil witch.

i don't get it. she's still gorgeous.

2007: Year in Review

Yeah. That's right. I'm looking back on 2007 just 50 days into the year. That's because this year has already been so f***ing ridiculous. I can't handle any more nonsense. It makes my head hurt.

The theme of the year has been crazy. Not just 'crazy'. We're talking 'super-nutso-insane-my-kind-of-woman' crazy. So where do we begin?

Pop Culture
=========
The biggest news of the year so far is that Anna Nicole Smith died. She has gotten more publicity with her death than she ever did in life. Speaking of which, no Kennedys have been accused of involvement in this one thus far (bonus points if you catch that reference).

And you thought that maybe this story could last for a few days. A week, tops. Nope. Just as the story died (too easy), some dude claimed that he was the Anna Nicole baby-daddy. And then another supposed baby-papa came forward. And another. And the majority of some high school football team, too. While no one in their right mind would admit to having sex with her while she was alive, we are getting some idea of the whore we always suspected she was.

And the story gets weirder every day. She stole a house in the Bahamas from some guy. She left everything to her son that died five months ago. I heard she used to sleep with an army of squirrels guarding her room. No I didn't.

Then to raise the bar, a former NASA astronaut slaps on a diaper and drives 400 miles to attack a romantic rival with pepper spray, a BB gun and a rubber hose. That's not actually as crazy as it sounds. I've had parties with all those ingredients and much more. And we had a hell of a good time. What's the big deal?

Oh Britney. Britney, Britney, Britney. She gets divorced. She parties. She's anti-panty. She neglects her kids. She dies her hair. She cuts off her hair. Honestly, I really don't give a damn what she does. It's her life. She's sold more records than me so who am I to criticize?

The insanity of the whole situation is that the f'ing media gets an erection the minute someone whispers her name. Usually because whatever nonsense rumor somebody makes up ends up being true. Do you know how I found out about the head-shaving incident? On CNN. CN-freaking-N. Wolf Blitzer, live from the Situation Room, the same place where wars, economic shifts and worldwide tragedies are brought to billions. And Britney's haircuts. I honestly think she gets together with her friends and they try to come up with crazy shit for her to do to see if the press will cover it for weeks.

POLITICAL HAPPENINGS
===================
Just when you thought it would be a good idea to distract yourself from pop insanity by focusing on political happenings, the stiffs go just as batty. Since none of us could wait any longer, full-on coverage of the 2008 presidential election began this January. Every move, every word and every misspoken statement has been obsessed over for weeks. Only 21 months to go!

"Is this country ready for a black president? A woman president? A black president? A woman president? Black. Woman. Black. Woman. Howie Mandel?" Oh, this won't get old anytime soon.

And amazingly, President Bush finally admitted that the war with/against/for/at Iraq was a disaster. It's as close as we'll get to him admitting a mistake. In response to this admittance, he reasons that we should probably double our troop deployment. Bwuhguh? It's like "I peed my pants a little. It was dumb. To fix it, I'm gonna pee a little more." Nice, Bushee.

But old Georgey wasn't done there. A month after that beauty, he goes on to accuse Iran of supplying weapons to the anti-American forces in Iraq. Let me get this straight. Arab nation supplies terrorists in other Arab nation with weapons to fight the United States. Oh, and there's no real evidence of it. It sounds so darn familiar. I swear I already saw that episode.

`Must See` Product Placement on NBC Thursdays

In case you've find yourself spending more money than usual each Friday, I think I may have found out the cause of your sudden spending splurges. Each week I tune into NBC's ratings-paradise Thursday night prime time, I'm finding the commercials a bit tougher to sit through. And I'm talking about the commercials that go on DURING THE EPISODE.

Ever since the first episode of Tina Fey's 30 Rock, I immediately realized what a potential ratings blockbuster NBC would have on its hand if they would only move 30 Rock and Scrubs to join their other smash sitcoms My Name is Earl and The Office on Thursday nights. Within 6 weeks, NBC execs finally gave into my demands and shifted the schedule. I honestly think it is the most solid two hours of comedy in the network's history.

And with that move, began some of the most blatant product placement I have ever seen. You'd think that selling ad-time with this schedule would be a sit-back-and-cash-in job. But NBC has been hard at work grabbing pennies. They've begun bidding in-episode advertisements to the highest bidder. Oh sweet capitalism.

Take for example...

THE OFFICE
I sensed something was afoul on the night of November 16, 2006. It was another "Supersized Thursday!!", where three shows are run at an extended 40 minutes per episode.

That night's episode of The Office (The Merger) seemed to set the pace, as a noticeable component of the plot revolved around a paper shredder. A paper shredder? Yeah. It seemed oddly forced when the emotion-limited Kevin goes on a rant about how much he loves his new paper shredder. When he asked where he got his new toy, Kevin proudly admits it was from Staples. All that was missing was for him to look directly into the camera, wink while an announcer suggests you "Visit your local Staples store for this and even more exciting products!" Immediately following this scene, guess what the very first commercial was for. No. Not just Staples. A familiar looking Staples paper shredder!! They so sneaky.

Ever since, the show has contained even more blatant (is that possible?) plugs for the store. When Dwight gets fired in The Return (1/18/07), guess where his knowledge of office supplies finds him working. If I have to tell you, you aren't paying attention.

And in Business School (2/15/07), Ryan gives a speech to his business class telling them how outdated his employer is. A student literally asks "How can you compete with a company like Staples?" The writers might as well have just gone for it all and said, "... a convenient, high quality, low price store like Staples?"

30 ROCK
30 Rock's Tina Fey makes so many pop culture references, it's hard to tell which ones her staff is getting rewarded for. Even the premiere episode (and most since) consisted of a mocking, yet playful mentioning of the network's parent company, General Electric. So blatant that it's still kind of funny, so they get away with it.

You can even expect one or two Star Wars references per episode. (A female lead who is smart, nerdish, yet smokingly hot AND intimate with Star Wars' quotes? Can't imagine what demographic they're going after.)

But the only obvious in-show sponsorship was present during that very same "Supersize Thursday" of November 16. The actual plot of the episode was a network exec pressuring the staff to write product placements into the show-within-a-show. As Fey does her best tongue-in-cheek, she protests to defend the "integrity of the show." Immediately thereafter, she and another character proceed to laud the tastiness of Snapple beverages, while sharing an elevator ride with a man in a Snapple bottle costume. I wonder how many viewers unknowingly responded, "I'm thirsty. I could really go for something tasty. Hey honey? Do we have any Snapple? We could really use some Snapple."

I could literally see Tina and the other producers leaving a meeting with NBC going, "We can't write a Snapple commercial into the show. We have to defend the... integrity... of... the... Gadzooks! I think I've got it!"

I don't really have a strong opinion on this either way. The shows need money to be made. And if a company wants to spot the money, the only pressure is on the writers to make it work comedically. I guess I just wish I could get my hand in on some of the sweet, sweet integrity-free money.

UPDATE: See? Told ya so.

Saturday Morning Melancholies

I swore I would never speak that phrase. Those five dirty little words snuck up on me and jumped out of my mouth before I could realize what I’d done. It happened as I was telling a friend about baby-sitting my toddler cousins.

"Children’s television today is just awful. It sure isn’t as good as..." And as I completed my sentence, it was as if I weren’t actually speaking, but instead watching someone else pronounce the words for me in slow motion. "when... I... was... a... kid."

And with that, my childhood was officially over. I was confused. I thought I would never meet a cartoon I didn’t like. I don’t even remember what show it was that brought me to this conclusion. It probably involved Japanimation. My first response was to defend my claim. I suddenly thought of my favorite programs from my youth. The Gummi Bears, Mr. Wizard, The Smurfs, Looney Tunes. Surely these shows were the established apex of children’s entertainment. I quickly theorized that television must have gotten worse since my cartoon watching days. It couldn’t be that I had (gulp!) outgrown kids’ shows.

I decided to root through an old box of VHS tapes I kept and watch a few episodes of the shows I enjoyed as a youngster. It was during this trip back into the television watching days of my youth that something horrible happened.

There was a time in my life when not a single Saturday morning passed without the Gummi Bears bounding into my living room. But as I now watched them chug their precious Gummi juice, bounce off the walls and foil the bad guys, I saw them for what they really were: alcohol abusing animals. Whenever trouble came their way, they never hesitated to turn to the bottle for a solution. What kind of a message was this?

Then there was Mr. Wizard. Dear Mr. Wizard. I thought nothing could tarnish the image of a man dedicated to educating children on the wonders of science.

I remember energetically leaping out of bed before 8am just to see what excitement Mr. Wizard had planned for the day. But as I watched through more mature eyes, I saw that he was just going through junk lying around in his kitchen.

"Pay close attention, boys and girls. When I apply a thin layer of Palm Olive to this dirty pan, the grease magically disappears due to chemical reactions happening before our very eyes. Go ahead. Now you do the rest."

That's not science. He was doing his chores. He was probably just trying to make a quick buck while keeping Mrs. Wizard off his back. What a crook.

Not even the Smurfs were free from my newfound criticism of classic television. One female in the entire village? And she was the "most generous" Smurf of all? It’s so clear to me now. Smurfette was a whore.

Even after I accept her as such, I realize there is still no way for this nymphomaniac sprite to please an entire village. Reflecting on my own experience in a prudish high school relationship opened my eyes. The blueish hue of the Smurf skin tone was not Mother Nature's doing. It seems that those boys were suffering from an extreme case of blue balls.

Yet more troubling, a new light shone from the TV glow as I watched an older alpha male spending his time alone in his private quarters, counseling the young and troubled, prefering to be called "Papa." Papa Smurf was just a dirty, old pedophile.

Drunks? Sluts and perverts? Blue balls? I was horrified (though it does explain most of my own eccentricities). The programs I had grown up with were turning out to be nothing more than support for deviant lifestyles aimed at impressionable viewers.

Suddenly, I saw the secret filth abundant in all the programs I once thought so innocent. Bugs, Daffy and the rest of the Looney Tunes gang were masochistic fiends who derived sick, sexual pleasures from torturing the innocent and the intellectually feeble. Wile E. Coyote practically gave a weekly How-To guide for overly elaborate suicide methods. It would not surprise me at all if it turned out that he proved to be the single biggest influence on a young Dr. Kevorkian.

I began to wonder about the potential messages of other shows. Was Spiderman a Peeping Tom? Were He-Man and She-Ra engaged in a power-hungry union based on incest? Did the Care Bears even give a shit about anybody else?

So I now find myself at a loss, trying to come to grips with a confused childhood by immersing myself in contemporary children’s programming. I’m only five minutes into my first episode of Sponge Bob, Square Pants and already I’m wondering if that manic depressive Coyote makes house calls.

Finally! Another Beatles Album! (sigh)

I'm not actually excited in any way. And this is coming from a life-long, die-hard Beatle-maniac. The latest release is actually the soundtrack to the Cirque de Soleil performance of the same name, which was choreographed to popular Beatles tracks.

By my last count, there have been 77 albums released under the Beatles name. Oh - that is only counting those released since they broke up in the spring of 1970. The group only managed 11 official albums while they were together (1962-1970). Amazing. They're seven times as productive as when they were actually making music together.

The thing that bothers me is that the Beatles have only created two new songs in the 36-year span since they parted ways. So each new album is essentially a reordering of the same old songs. Sometimes they throw a trombone somewhere in the background.

TV: Buy the Beatles NEW album!! For the first time! "Yellow Submarine" and "Octopus's Garden" on the same disc!

Average fan: But I already have both of those songs. In fact, I have all their songs.

TV: Yes, er... but do you them - back-to-back!?!

Average fan: All that for $23? Go on...

Even George Lucas adds 47 extra seconds whenever he re-re-re-releases a Star War. Or he'll change Jabba the Hutt's color from putrid brown to a brighter earthy tone. At least there is a minutia of difference in content to insult our intelligence into thinking we're buying something new.

It's easy to understand why every year seems to bring about a "new" release from the most lucrative band of the past century. But it still begs us to ask the remaining living Beatles, "How much money do you really need from these songs?" However, the Beatles themselves do not even possess the rights to their own music. The pimps of their music are - and have been for the last two decades - Michael Jackson and Sony Music, Corp.

This Faustian partnership shrewdly bought up just about every title the Beatles ever created when the copyrights expired and went up for auction in the early 1980s. So every time you hear "Twist and Shout" backing a tampon commercial, you can thank Mikey and company.

As Mr. Jackson seems to find himself in more and more legal trouble, you can expect the commercialization and careless licensing of Beatles music to get worse before it gets better. Don't be surprised to hear these songs in commercials sometime in the near future:

Song	Brand/Service
Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds	Tiffany's™
I'm So Tired	Red Bull™
Golden Slumbers	Nyquil™
Hello, Goodbye	ExLax™ Constipation Relief
I Am the Walrus	acne treatment
I Should Have Known Better	debt relief
Happiness is a Warm Gun; Run For Your Life	National Rifle Association©
From Me to You	STD Advisory Board
You've Got to Hide Your Love Away	public service announcements against public nudity
All You Need is Love	escort services
When I'm 64; I've Got a Feeling	Viagra®
Please, Please Me; Come Together	KY Jelly®

As for me, I plan to use Beatles lyrics as my opening statement in an upcoming court appearance:

She was just seventeen, You know what I mean

New Species Discovered Outside Local Electronics Stores

My friends. Oh, my dear friends. A little bit of curiosity can do quite a bit of damage. Specifically, my curiosity as to how big a deal the release of Playstation 3 , set for Friday, November 17, would end up being.
My journey started on Tuesday, when a friend reminded me that the release was only 3 days away. Out of curiosity, I stopped by eBay. There I found a catalog of pre-orders auctioning in upwards of $1,000 (note: the system retails for $600). I suddenly realized that I could make quite a profit if I were willing to spend a little time and energy to pick up a few systems. Oh how I underestimated my fellow man.
So yesterday I thought I'd do some research. Find out who was selling and when the doors would open. First stop: Walmart. While everyone was scouting out video game stores, I'd be the genius coasting through lines at Walmart. I'm so smart. Wrong. Before I was inside the store, I was greeted by the sight of six middle aged-men seated comfortably in camping chairs, with their tents propped up behind them. The helpful staff informed me that the eager beavers already in line had been there since 2pm... the day before!!! I was also told that the systems were as good as sold out with the line already formed. Well okay then. Next stop: Target.
At 3:15pm I arrived at Target and saw a familiar site. Tents and camping chairs waiting outside. However, what made this line unique were the 5 homeless men also in line. I checked in with the guys and it seems that someone paid them $100 each to wait in line for him. He was planning on showing up after they handed out the tickets at 8am Friday. Wow. Oh - and the dude gave them a makeshift canopy and blankets. I'm not sure if the silent partner is overly thoughtful or ridiculously greedy. 0 for 2.
Final stop: Best Buy. Now it was 3:30pm. No tents here. No camping chairs, portable heaters or portable derelicts. Just 50 (count 'em, 50) kids aged 15-20 arguing with the police. After talking to the officer, I learned that Best Buy refused to allow a line to form before 12:01am the day of the release. These kids had been there since the day before. They'd sit in their cars, but then someone new would arrive, think they had the inside scoop and would happily consider themselves to be first in line. So the cars would empty and a mad rush would ensue to reform the line. Then the staff would argue with them for 30 minutes until they returned to their cars and the mad dance would spin itself again.
Usually a bunch of people hanging out in a parking lot is called tailgating. But the emotion, the look of desperation in those eyes; this looked like something much different. Like the coordinated stalking of a stationary building.
It was at this point that I realized my resolve was not nearly as arduous as anyone I had met that day. At once I wanted to mock them and yell at them. This is the most important thing to you? Sitting idle for 40+ hours outside of a store in order to have the "privilege" to pay $600? Yikes. The future looks bleak indeed, my amigos.
Out of curiosity, I checked eBay when I got home. With 16 hours until the release, auction prices already surpassed $3,000. Oh wait. You wanted games with that? Then we're talking $7,000. 40 hours, huh? Is that all?

Scary Movie Survival 101

Horror movies have been around as long as movies have been made. What amazes me is that even after all this time, people in scary movies are still dying. It's ridiculous. We have thousands of victims whose mistakes led to their demise - yet these mistakes are repeated every time.

I thought I would do my part as the noble human being I am to come up with a list of the most common mistakes made in horror movies. If you ever find yourself in a slasher flick, all you need to do is heed my warnings and I guarantee you'll be around when the killer is unmasked.

QUOTES
• If you ever say, "Did you hear something?" you will die within four minutes.
• If someone is missing from the group, they are either dead or the killer. The first person to suggest that everyone "split up and look around" will be the next person to die.
• If the screw-up in the group comes up with a plan and says, "Just trust me," do what he says. Otherwise you will die an ironic death.

PLACES
• If there is a thunderstorm, two people will die. Invite a lot of people to your house to reduce the probability of it being you.
• The two most popular hangouts for crazy killers are underage drinking parties and houses with a babysitter and infant.
• No one dies during the day. Move to the North Pole.

PEOPLE
• The creepy guy that no one trusts is NOT the killer. Or is he? No, he isn't. It's too obvious and he will actually end up saving you at some point - but then the killer will sneak up from behind him and kill him while everyone is celebrating.
• The buddy system never works. Your buddy will disappear first, but also end up being the killer.
• Stay away from Jamie Lee Curtis. She will always survive but everyone around her dies. I'm beginning to think she might be the killer.

SEX
• The Virgin Myth is not true. Someone will die while having sex, but not necessarily virgins. The girl will see the killer come up behind the guy but her gasps of shock and fear will be misinterpreted as orgasms. That is why girls should always be on top.
• The bigger a girl's breasts are, the more likely she is going to die with her shirt off. Take showers fully clothed to be safe and never, EVER engage in a panty/tickle fight with your hot girlfriends while home alone. Come over to my house.
• If you pressure your girlfriend to have sex when she doesn't want to, you will die with a surprised look on your face and an axe to the head. The same will happen if you dress up as the killer to scare her and her friends.
• tragically, the sexy slut will always die. That is why these movies are considered "horror."

OTHER
• never put more than 2 keys on your keychain. Because someone will end up with a keyring the size of a high school janitor's when they are trying to get back in the house or start a car.
• no, he isn't dead. Even if the killer fell from an extreme height onto metal spikes covered in lava, he is still alive. The moment you turn your back, he will come after you.
• there is ALWAYS a sequel.

Britney Spears: Victim of Celebrity or Trashy Whore? Trashy Whore, No Contest

You know, I really thought that 2004 was going to be my year. I figured that the past 21 years were all in preparation for an all encompassing, near magical "Year of Joe." Yet, only three days into this year, I was greeted with tragic, horribly unsettling news.

I, along with millions of middle aged men around the country, were horrified to learn that Britney Spears had finally taken the oath of marriage. Twenty to fifty year old boys everywhere wept openly in the streets upon learning the sad, desperate truth: their lives are incredibly pathetic for thinking that there was some apocalyptic set of circumstances that would bring them together with Britney. Beyond that, Mrs. Spears' marriage is a sad event in its own right.

Fame, fortune, millions of devoted fans around the globe and she ties the knot on the Las Vegas strip at 5 am on a Saturday? Something tells me alcohol played some small role in the ceremony. And to think, it had always been my dream to be the lucky fella that would get her drunk and legally bound to me while she was under the influence of her own stupidity.

Don't get me wrong, I think its romantic to get married while surrounded by strippers and showgirls, with Pete Rose in the back yelling, "I've got 10 to 1 odds they last a week." I guess I just expected a little more class from the girl who made out with Madonna on live television. Well, one of the girls who made out with Madonna. Okay, one of the many girls who has made out with Madonna. Seriously, I've lost count.

Fortunately, adoring and Internet savvy fans had only to wait 12 hours for the pop princess to be single once again. Are you for real? I've had band-aids that have stuck longer than 12 hours. I also think this is the most unsettling aspect to the whole story. Its not that I mind the blatant disregard for the sanctity of marriage so much as I’m pissed that I can't even drop a class at Drexel as fast as Britney dropped ex-husband #1. That's right, let's start the tally now.

Oh and did I point out that the lucky groom's name is Jason Alexander? Isn't that the guy that played George Costanza on Seinfeld? I know he dated some girls that were out of his league, but this is a little ridiculous. When asked to comment on the marriage, Alexander responded, "Look. I had a bad day, I wanted to get away for the weekend, yada, yada, yada, I had intercourse with Britney Spears. We got married, too. I think."

Apparently, she and this jackass were childhood friends from Louisiana. Who knows what their families are saying? I don't, but its fun to guess, isn't it? Most likely, Momma Spears is saying something to the effect of, "That's just ain't the way its done in Leeziana. It ain't proper unless Pappy's shotgun is pushing the groom up the aisle." To which Pappy Spears responds, "Naw, I'm just embarrassed. They ain't even cousins, sis."

Looking on the positive side of things, a tawdry little scenario like this can only help the girl-not-yet-a-women who tortured us with "Crossroads." I see a whole line of endorsement opportunities opening up for her as a result of this crazy marriage.

First off, an alcohol sponsorship deal has to be in the works by now. "Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum: if you're looking for love, the Captain will see you all the from the dance floor to the altar. Because by 5 am, you're going to need some help walking down that aisle."

And who better to sell cameras than a woman whose first marriage lasted less time than it takes to get a roll of film developed? I foresee Britney being the future spokesperson of single-use products everywhere. "For the night you'll never remember, get the new single-use Kodak SnapShot to save the memories for you. Disposable husbands will come and go, but disposable cameras last a vacation."

In closing, I have one thing I'd like to say to Britney: We all do things in life we're going to regret. The point is that we must learn from our mistakes so that we don't repeat them. Hopefully this experience has taught you that the next time you get married you had better get a receipt. After all, no receipt, no returns.

News in Review: joey Style

In case you've been buried by midterms, papers or alcohol, here is a quick breakdown of the big news stories you may have missed in the past month.

In international news, the Chinese government made headlines earlier this month by sending a man into space. More than forty years after the "Space Race" of the 1960s, the late entry of the Chinese into space surprised few, given the fact that the Chinese are known for being so bad at math. When asked to comment on the challenge of the project, twelve year old flight director Chin Siu-Ming answered, "Mom said I needed an after school activity to get into a good college, so I figured I would do it." His answer was given in perfect English, by the way.

On the local scene, a scandal erupted when Philadelphia Mayor John Street's office was found to be bugged. The federal government denied any involvement, but did show up at City Hall the next day to confiscate his computer. While carrying the hardware out of the office, agents were asked the nature of their investigation of the mayor.

"We did not bug his office. We are not confiscating his computer. We're not even in this room. That's just what the Matrix is telling you. Hey! Look over there." The agents then disappeared, leaving behind a smoke outline of their bodies and a "Zing!" sound effect.

In entertainment, MTV's latest reality incarnation, Newlyweds, is the biggest television hit of the season. The show teaches the network's prepubescent audience the harsh realities of married life: living in a huge mansion, dealing with thousands of adoring fans and throwing tantrums when your new hubby goes to the playboy mansion.

Also, this sneak peak into the life of the beautiful, the rich and the famous has confirmed our suspicions about the demands of celebrity: you have to be completely retarded. It's simply frightening that a woman so perplexed by the "chicken of the sea" brand of tuna fish is worth more than the Gross National Product of Guam.

In national news, the suspect accused of carrying out the sniper attacks that took place around the Washington, D.C. area last fall has elected to defend himself in his criminal trial. Legal analysts recommend that he advise his client to plead permanent stupidity.

On the surface, it would appear that nothing out of the ordinary is going on in our country. In baseball, both the Cubs and Red Sox continued their near-century-long tradition of watching the World Series from home. Just last week, the U.S. Congress passed a motion to give themselves raises without any say on behalf of the people they supposedly represent. And our president continues to withhold important documents despite the demands of a governmental investigatory commission.

However, a closer inspection reveals that something sinister is afoot. Earlier this month, actor Arnold Schwarzeneggar was promoted from action star to governor of the state of California. His state is currently suffering from raging wild fires that are crisscrossing the west coast. The sun is exhibiting one of the most violent solar storms in known history, apparently rearing for a surprise attack against our planet.

Let's see: rivers of fire spewing forth from the earth, the sun falling from the sky, the Yankees losing the World Series in Yankee Stadium: I'd say we're looking at the dawn of the apocalypse.

I started to grow suspicious that the devil was up to something crafty when both the Cubs and Red Sox made it within one game of the World Series in the same year, but that whole Arnold thing gives it away. Seriously, with the worldwide outbreak of war, the rampant flooding; I watch the news these days with a copy of the Book of Revelations and a pencil, just checking things off: "Got it, got it, need it, got it, got it, got it, need it, got it..."

I'd ask when the four horsemen are going to show up, but my latest viewing of Newlyweds has informed me that a 98 Degrees reunion is already in the works.

Bush, Outkast Declare War on Iraq

The entire world finds itself divided over the current war between the United States and Iraq. One cannot help but to wonder why this fruitless bloodshed has come to be. Some blame Imperialistic motives concerning oil. This motive is easily proved incorrect though. Primarily because the Iraqis have no need for American oil. Besides, the United States doesn't even have that much oil to begin with, so why wouldn't Iraq attempt to war with a more oil rich nation, such as Saudi Arabia?

Instead, the blame for this entire conflict should be laid squarely at the feet of Outkast and their war cry of a song, 'Bombs Over Baghdad." Just months ago, we lived in a world where there was absolutely no notion of a possible war with Iraq. That is, not until one group's jingle of bloody violence and rhythmic beats planted the idea of an Iraqi war in our President's head. Mr. Bush can not be blamed for his musical tastes, nor can he be blamed for the actions those tastes may lead him to take. Let's face it: he can't be blamed or credited with most of his decisions.

Fact: Before the song's release, there was no serious violence in any Mid East nation. Fact: Before the war started, Iraq reported a 0% violence rating. Now, explosions and gunfire are common ground on the platinum-lined streets of Iraq. Coincidence? I think not.

When asked to defend their actions, the authors of this song feebly attempted to dodge their responsibilities for the bloodshed with claims of 'that war we fought with them ten years ago" and 'the fact that their leader is an evil bastard." As of the printing of this publication, no evidence was found to support such outrageous claims. There has been absolutely no congressional declaration of war since War World II. Therefore, the United States has not been involved in any wars since that conflict. Also, Outkast's unfair allegation of Mr. Hussein's illegitimacy has yet to be proven.

Apparently, Outkast isn't interested in the facts. Who can blame them, when it makes for such great record sales? Hasn't anyone noticed that every news report is immediately followed by a promotion for "Bombs Over Baghdad." I even caught Dan Rather personally endorse this "completely righteous tune" once. He even went on to add that "it'll make ya boogy all the way back to Gran Pappy's chestnut farm like a gopher on a hot plate."

Additionally, American intelligence agencies were completely unaware that the city of Baghdad even existed until this geographically savvy musical group unleashed its wrath on the unsuspecting Iraqi regime. An independent survey taken four years before this war started shockingly revealed that 98% of Americans had 'no idea what a Baghdad is, nor should we go to war with it, should it be a Mid-East capital city run by a viciously mustached dictator."

Finally we have conclusive evidence that music, movies and video games are the sole cause all societal problems. For years, the music and movie industries have served to inspire violence, general chaos and now war. Here are some previous offenses by the bloodthirsty entertainment industry:

1. In his 1989 song, Billy Joel claims he didn't start the fire. Why the guilty conscience, Mr. Joel? No one has accused you of anything... yet. Although Billy Joel's guilt of arson is as yet undecided, he is clearly responsible for igniting a wave of pyromania that has engulfed a generation, simply by mentioning the word 'fire' in his song.
2. In 1986, an unknown filmmaker by the name of John Hughes told us the tale of a crafty teenager who manipulates family, friends and foes so that he can play hooky from school and engage in zany antics and a wild adventure. The name of this film: Ferris Bueller's Day Off. As a direct result of this film, thousands of high school students began skipping school without proper medical justification, though few had the honor of lip-syncing a Wayne Newton song in a Chicago day parade. As a matter of fact, the majority of Hollywood inspired truants ended up unsuccessfully scanning daytime TV for hours in a vain search for a program that could provide some amount of mental stimulation. Still, Mr. Hughes and his spiteful apprentice (an unknown actor named Matthew Broderick who has rightfully been unemployed since this wicked film) gave teenagers, one of the most loyal and least rebellious age groups, the idea to skip a day of high school. Shame on you both.

The question we must ask ourselves is how many battles will we let be fought and lost at the whim of the entertainment industry? It's time to take control of our country back. It is not up to the musicians, directors or mimes to decide which battles to fight, nor which international capitals to send bombs over, sideways or under, on a magic carpet ride. Sorry, don't even get me started on the mind control of Disney songs.

Penis Enlargement Getting Out of Hand

Ladies and gentlemen, today we find ourselves at the forefront of a brave new world. I submit that the dawn of a new shift in the existence of man is most clearly marked by the presence of penis enlargement pill advertisements on television.

I never thought I'd see the day. As an American, I swelled with pride upon the airing of this revolutionary ad. However, I don't believe that we should so readily embrace this candid promotion of manhood expansion, as it will soon be clear that a much more treacherous plot is afoot.

I will say that the commercial did an excellent job of representing the global female perspective with the viewpoint of one woman. Who, incidentally, appears to be none other than an out of work hairdresser's assistant. Anyway, this future Oscar-winner convincingly pleads that in order to please a woman, the absolute minimum length for a manrod is six inches.

I'm completely fine with this- plenty fine, don't you worry about that; fine by at least four inches in fact. I'm just saying. But in defense of my less gifted brothers, I must argue that it sounds ridiculous that the male penis-- not to say there is as such thing as a female penis, at least I don't think there is-- Anyway, it's absurd that the male genitalia has to be six inches in length, or else be deemed insufficient and rendered out of commission.

Then it hit me. An epiphany hit me, not a penis. I was handing my money to a cashier when - for the first time in all my years of money handling - I observed the length of a dollar bill. Six inches!!! It can't be a coincidence.

Men, what women are trying to tell us is that without decent earning power, we simply can't measure up. They put it in this complex fashion just because, you know, women make no sense to us. But the message is clear now, ladies, and we're not going to lie limp while you judge us based on superficial characteristics without getting to know the real us.

Sadly, there are plenty more messages women are spreading that are just as dangerous and even more covert. Connections that are so transparent, they may not even make sense even once revealed. We've got a team working on them at this very moment. But the team is made up of guys. So we don't end up doing much of anything. Oh well.

Other signs that point towards the decline of western civilization include the premiere of the Bachelorette last week, which has left audiences stunned in silence since its debut. I for one can't say that I see the big deal with it. So, let me get this straight: 25 guys vying for the attention and affection of one girl? Yeah, it's called going to Drexel. Get over it. You want to see desperate guys? Check out this place on a hot summer day when the temperatures rise and the neck lines drop. Now that's reality.

On the flip side of the Great Gender Divide, we have Joe Millionaire, the show that boldly dares to question whether there are people who are more interested in money and image than love. How can you not be glued to a program that ripped off the premise of the 1999 film Drive Me Crazy - which itself was a successfully plagiarized version of 1987's Can't Buy Me Love? The moral of the story is that no one will love you until you clean yourself up and assume a fake persona, preferably one that violates everything you stand for.

In the end, the cryptic penis messages and the reality TV craze are going to have changed the way we watch television; presumably by forcing us to shut it off. Otherwise we're left with a sad, desperate vision of the future. A future in which scores of men stumble over one another in pursuit of women like a herd of rabid dogs after a cat; lie to women about their jobs and economic security in order to fulfill their own ulterior motives; and yet struggle to fulfill the physical desires of women. Let us hope this day never comes.

Anyway, I'm outta here. I'm going to play the home version of Joe Millionaire. I call it Joey Five Spot and it's pretty simple. I wear a University of Penn sweatshirt, hang out on Penn's campus and try to woo economically minded girls by telling them I have no student loans. You know, in search of a true love who will love me for me.

**The author of this piece can not be held responsible for any penile paper cuts suffered as a result of the remarks set forth in this piece. Seriously, boys, don't even try it. You'll only embarrass yourself.