Quote of the Day

From TPM Muckraker

Assistant to the President on Counterterrorism, Frances Fragos Townsend, on the so-called 'failure' to capture Bin Laden after six years:

"Well, I'm not sure -- it's a success that hasn't occurred yet. I don't know that I view that as a failure."

Priceless.

Giants Shock the City By Signing Someone Under 35!

It jolted me out of my walking slumber when I heard it on the TV in my local coffee shop this morning -- Barry Zito signing a seven-year contract with the Giants! I think most A's fans had just become so accustomed to the idea of Zito being a Texas Ranger next year that this announcement took most of us by surprise.

So this is good news. Not only will we still be able to follow Zito closely, but the A's will only have to face him a couple times a year at most. And he won't be winning games for another team in our division. In fact, in a few years, Zito will be playing closer to the Coliseum than any of his now-former teammates.

But it comes as a bit of a surprise. For one thing, the Giants shelled out Yankees money for the soft-tossing lefty -- $126 million over 7 years with an $18 million option and $7 million buyout in 2014. Not to mention that Zito seems a little young for the geriatric Giants. Their signing of 35-year-old Ryan Klesko and resignings of 35-year-old Ray Durham and 42-year-old Barry Bonds only serve to underscore their recent insistence on a casket-aged roster.

Granted, Zito has never missed a start -- something that was beginning to become more of a concern with their previous ace Jason Schmidt. Zito's also only 28 years old. His curve will baffle NL hitters -- at least for a season or two -- and he'll be pitching in a pitcher's park. He's certainly used to having no offensive support, but will likely suffer a bit from a somewhat downgraded defense.

In any case, it seems likely that he will see more success in San Francisco than Mark Mulder saw in St. Louis or Tim Hudson saw in Atlanta. But that, of course, remains to be seen. As does how Barry will fare when he has to compete with Mayor Gavin Newsom and washed-up 'rocker' Stephan Jenkins for the city's eligible 19-year-old women.

OK, Get Ready!

It may be a while before the Human Giant MTV series premieres, so we must focus our comedic appreciation elsewhere. May I suggest The Naked Trucker and T-Bones Show? It's about to kick off its run on Comedy Central on January 17th.

The show originated from a sketch comedy/music performance piece that has kept Dave Allen and David Koechner returning to Largo (a music venue/comedy club on Fairfax Ave. in Hollywood) once a month for the last several years.

You may recognize Koechner's name and/or visage from such landmark films as Anchorman, Talladega Nights and Dukes of Hazzard, and TV shows like The Office and Saturday Night Live. But you can expect him to be twice as funny when he sheds the restraints of the secondary character actor.

And if it's anywhere near as funny as the live performance, I'd say I might have a new reason to turn on Comedy Central -- one that that doesn't involve someone named Stewart or Colbert.

Divine Intervention

So it will soon be everywhere I'm sure, but for my friends who don't spend their days on music blogs, we now have the first single from The Arcade Fire's long-awaited sophomore album.

Called Intervention, it features the "huge fuckin' pipe organ" that Win wrote about on the band's site back in June (follow the Win link on the home page to his scrapbook and go to the June and July postings).

I'll spare you my opinions and let you enjoy for yourselves, courtesy of 'You Ain't No Picasso'.

P.S. It has also been pointed out to me that you can access this song sans Internet (though how would you be reading this right now unless you were already on) at 1-800-NEON-BIBLE. In case you were wondering, Neon Bible is said to be the title of the upcoming album. You will reach a menu that asks you to press 7777 for a special message -- which is, in fact, the song.

Livin' Large in Los Angeles

Los Angeles is much like I left it almost seven years ago. The Westsiders won't set foot on the Eastside (Zach!) and the Eastsiders still don't like to go west of Doheny. My friends all live out by the beach, but I'm partial to the Eastside, so I went ahead and got a room at The Standard Downtown for the beginning of the trip. It was one of the coolest rooms I've ever stayed in. That's it, up at the top of the page.

As always, there was a musical component to the trip. An early-week Joanna Newsom show at Malibu Performing Arts Center was surprisingly good, and the weekend art opening for Cold War Kids bassist Matt Maust was chock full of beautiful young hipsters. I felt like a creepy old college professor, but at least there was free beer and some pretty good blues covers sung by Cold War Kids frontman Nathan Willett. I had to leave early as the previously mentioned Hunter S. Thompson photography opening was taking place across town.

The rest of the week saw me criss-crossing the city in search of good food, drink, art, music and, as the Irish term it, craic. Had a very tasty Southern Style Pan Fried Chicken with Sauteed Spinach at Engine Co. No. 28, richly flavored Eggs Hussarde at Pacific Dining Car, didn't eat the reportedly great sushi at R23, but had fascinating Speck/Rugula and Lardo pizzas at Mario Batali and Nancy Silverton's Pizzeria Mozza. Revisited the killer Bloody Mary at The Ivy, had some truly great BBQ pork ribs at JnJ Burger Shack. I also found time to hit up my old standby Fatburger and the truly creepy downtown Clifton's Cafeteria.

Ended my trip with a great Egg Nog and Spice cupcake at Sprinkles in Beverly Hills, at which point, I had a singularly Los Angeles experience. While pulling through a light in West Hollywood, I looked back to see a huge Hummer pulling through the intersection behind me. A young guy who looked like a rapper who had just signed his first contract was behind the wheel. When he turned left, I saw for the first time that not only was he driving a giant Hummer, the Hummer was also towing a brand new 40-foot boat. Talk about Big Pimpin'.

Despite all my efforts, including spending a night at the Ritz in Marina del Rey courtesy of my good friend Boris, and waking up to play tennis, hit up room service and lie in the hot tub the next day, this guy had me beat hands-down. That's just the way it is in Los Angeles, where living big is the utmost form of expression.

Supporting The Arts

It seems that my brain-wave transmissions are finally getting through to the appropriate powers-that-be in Hollywood, on Broadway and in the Bay Area theatrical community.

I first realized this might be true in October of last year when I heard, straight from the mouth of the latter-day Brendan Behan himself, that Johnny Depp would be starring in and producing a film adaptation of J.P. Donleavy's The Ginger Man. You can't believe everything that falls from the lips of an Irishman with a glass of whiskey in his hand, but further research bore out the gist of his story.

It appears that though the novel squeaked into the Top 100 Modern Novels as ranked by Random House several years back, there has never been a successful film adaptation. That may still be the case as, for the most part, the Internet has been strangely silent on the details of the current project, leading one to believe it might be in jeopardy.

Then I heard from my friend Boris in New York that the footlights in the Booth Theatre on Broadway will soon shine on a theatrical production of Joan Didion's 'The Year of Magical Thinking'. A astonishingly frank and genuine account of the author's struggle with the sudden and unexpected loss of the love of her life and the near-loss of her only daughter (she would recover briefly and then succumb to acute pancreatis) is one of the literary highlights of the past decade. As a hard-core Didion devotee, I have my doubts about this one, despite the fact that Joan herself penned the script. I'm just not sure that Vanessa Redgrave, or anyone for that matter, can pull off a convincing portrayal of the singular Ms. Didion.

Finally, I stumbled across a gallery opening in Beverly Hills last week showcasing some of Hunter S. Thompson's photography. Largely self-portraits and intimate shots of his first wife and son in the picturesque landscapes in which they have lived over the years, the exhibit also included some candid shots of the Hell's Angels, as well as the infamous self-portrait of Hunter after suffering a savage beating at the hands of the biker gang. The opening was packed with beautiful people and also drew Fear and Loathing bit player Harry Dean Stanton. This must have been a portent, because days later, back in San Francisco, I happened to see a flyer for a local theater production of a play called Gonzo celebrating the life and times of the Good Doctor.

What with the upcoming film version of Bret Easton Ellis' Glamorama, it looks like a good year for the boss and arts appreciation. So with a nod to a couple of my friends in the film industry, I say bravo to 2007, the year of the shrewd producer!

George Will is Full of S#@%!

The Bossman has been on hiatus for a little while, spending some time down in his old stomping ground -- Los Angeles. Actually, I didn't really do much stomping down there then, but I'm trying to make up for it now. I'll fill you in on the trip shortly.

But first, I would like to share this ridiculous piece written by right-wing prig and Washington Post columnist George Will. Will recounts an exchange between President Bush and Virginia Senator-elect Jim Webb, but fiddles with the wording to make his point that Webb was intentionally and inexplicably rude to the President, which apparently is a no-no within the mannerly confines of the Beltway.

Some have responded that messing with direct quotes and omitting key phrases is a journalism school 101 no-no. And though it's often done to correct poor grammar or to convey the actual intent of the speaker using fewer words, Will clearly crossed a line through his omissions, as TPM Cafe points out.

Then, with no sense of the irony, he gets all college-English-professor on Webb, parsing the language of an excerpt of his writing to prove that, though once a practiced speaker, Webb is now careless and sometimes even rude. Shocking to be sure -- even if Will couldn't even approach convincing with his argument. Rather, he expects us to share his outrage that Webb might want to point out widening class divisions with some slight rhetorical flourish. And he wants us to censure the Senator for the high crime of misusing the word 'literally'.

They say those who can't do teach. More accurately here, those who can't do -- or teach -- become Washington Post columnists.