Author: BillSaysThis

Prototype Marvin costume revealed

Karl’s gone green!

This is one head coaching hire I really like. Frankly, I don’t care how well the Bears do next season but I think that the ownership should be commended for bringing in a minority coach who speaks well, is creative and knows his defense (taking the Rams from near bottom to near top during three years as coordinator) and his team history–setting goal number one as victories over the hated Packers. He’ll need some big help on the moving the ball side of things because he has no background on offense and not too much in the way of talented players to use as a seed kernel.

Perhaps he (and whoever he brings in as coordinator) can get from Kordell Stewart what Bill Cowher never could, but it won’t be as starting QB–that job belongs to Rex Grossman (who’s still not Jewish) after a very promising rookie year–but Slash was a great runner and reciever and should be able to contribute as a different kind of weapon if he’s willing. Marty Booker and Anthony Thomas have potential and perhaps Coach Smith can get GM Angelo and the ownership to open the checkbook for some top free agent talent.

That may be easier for Bears fans to dream about than expect, though, since they reportedly gave Smith one of the lowest paychecks in the league; even Gregg Williams, fired as the Bills coach, got nearly $500k more to be Joe Gibbs’ new defensive coordinator in DC. Smith is the now the fifth African-American coach in the NFL along with Arizona’s Dennis Green, NY Jet’s Herm Edwards, Cincinnati’s Marvin Lewis and Indy’s Tony Dungy.

OligoplyWatch has an interesting posting on how the big food companies are responding to the low carb market demand. Unilever, for instance, will be releasing a large number of low carb versions of its Ragu, Skippy and Wishbone products, hoping to pick up the slack from the declining sales of its Slimfast line. OW quotes a Fortune article: “Meanwhile, at food-science labs across the country, researchers are figuring out how to take the carbs out of just about every product we eat.” And, as I expected, these entries will lower the price of low carb products; the Skippy peanut butter, for instance, will have a list price of $2.89 versus $6.99 for Carb Not Beanit Butter, and you know there are always coupons and specials on their stuff. W00t, if I do say so myself.

Mike Mularkey, who spent the last three seasons as the offensive coordinator for the Pittsburgh Steelers, was named today as the new head man in Buffalo. The Bills have a solid trio of skills players–Drew Bledsoe as QB, Travis Henry at RB and Eric Moulds at WR–and a proven guy like Mularkey, nine years a tight end in the NFL, ought to be able to do better than last season’s 15.2 points/game and 30th place in overall offense. The hiring leaves Chicago and Oakland as the only teams without coaches; seems like St. Louis is going to stick with Martz another year even though many observers don’t see why.

The way soccer players (outside the US) change teams is different than the trade/free agent system used by American professional sports; instead, the acquiring team pays a transfer fee, unless the player’s contract is up and then there is no fee. Contracts tend to be a bit longer, at least in the EPL, where five years or so seems normal. The transfer fee is set by the player’s current team, sometimes as part of the player’s contract negotiation, and smaller teams make a good bit of their revenues by developing players for sale to the richer franchises. Transfers happen only in two windows: the close season (what we call the off-season) in the summer and for the month of January.

All of which is a lead-in to saying that the current situation of Fullham’s Louis Saha is quite amusing, and strange, to this American observer. Saha has come on very strong this year, with his 15 goals leading Fullham to a better halfway record than they’ve had in years. However, the top clubs in the EPL, especially Manchester United and Chelsea, seem to never be quite satisfied with their makeup and so ManU has come along and offered to buy Saha. Fullham management, well aware that without Saha they have little chance of making a strong finish and qualifying for European competition (meaning even more money coming in next season), have said no to them.

But the player, not surprisingly, wants the chance to star for one of the world’s top clubs and his desires must be taken into account–one would only imagine that his play will suffer otherwise–and so today’s headline, that Fullham have put an £18 million transfer fee on him, seems capricious at best. However, all the attention plus a six week injury to top striker Hernan Crespo have brought the other big spender, Chelsea, into the situation.

This news comes only days after Saha himself announced that his transfer to ManU was done, requiring only that he pass a physical and that his new employers send over a check for £; Fullham have denied any such deal, of course, and insist that Saha is far too precious to their needs to let him go. Cottagers boss Chris Coleman (don’t they have some quaint team nicknames?) says no way but one can only watch and see what happens over the next two weeks, before the window closes.

• Is Pay Per Click advertising, such as the Google ads on this site, hitting a perfect storm?
• Martin Mayer, a respected writer and observer of the American banking system and the Federal Reserve, brings to light an interesting tool the Administration ought to be using the in the fights against terrorism and drugs but doesn’t: tracing the path of large blocks of paper money, such as the one Saddam had when he was captured in his hidey hole.
• Web helper: Converter for funny characters is not necessarily the title I’d choose for this page but it is quite handy nonetheless.

Humpday indeed.

Now low carbers can have it their way at Burger King too.

Let’s just say I have high hopes for the meatloaf I just prepared for tonight’s dinner. Because otherwise TS1 ain’t never gonna let me cook another. ‘Nuff said? (I’m pretty sure it is.)

Beau is just crazy! Bob, OTOH, sounds nearly suicidal, sadly.

Subaru uses Newspeak to make its Outback sedan a “light truck,” thereby avoiding stiffer mileage and pollution controls. In other words, more corporate bullshit to take advantage of legal loopholes put there by big dollar lobbying but justified as helping some small disadvantaged groups (in this case so farmers and small businesses would be able to afford trucks).

This chick will mince you up into itty bitty white boy meatballs.

There are, it is said, only seven basic plots in all the world, and Shakespeare wrote the best possible versions of each of them 400 years ago. Still, movie theaters and TV channels have space to fill and so studios keep turning out product. The most basic plot of all is boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl and they live happily ever after. The Guru tries to bring a few twists to this old as the hills story and succeeds.

Jimi Mistry is Ramu, an Indian kid who grows up idolizing and idealizing movie musicals and actors, but is little more than a dance teacher who captivates his Macarena students. Shades of Cinema Paradiso but instead of becoming a projectionist, Ramu moves to New York to seek stardom. Mistaking an audition for a porn movie for a real one, he meets Sharonna (Heather Graham), his intended co-star. But, given the opportunity, he can’t perform in front of the crowd of set techs.

Through a series of accidents and mistaken identity Ramu picks up with rich, directionless Lexi (Marisa Tomei) as a guru of sex and Lexi, using her friendships and connections, builds him into a new flash on the New York scene. Meanwhile, Sharonna, engaged to a very strict Catholic firefighter, is giving Ramu lessons so (she thinks) he can make it in the porn world. In reality, he’s using these lessons as the source material for his guru sessions. And then everything collides, but I don’t want to give away the amusements of the last act.

This is a truly funny, witty movie. One of the aspects of much humor in recent years that bothers me is the meanness, the humor that comes at the expense of another. But The Guru is able to avoid this, though admittedly there are a few stereotypes (like Tomei’s rich bitch mother, played by Christine Baranski). The script is by Tracey Jackson (her first produced script) and the film is directed by Daisy von Scherler Mayer (the Parker Posey indie Party Girl and Jada Pinkett’s Woo) and these women combine to bring a terrific touch and sensitivity to their work.

Recommended

I’ve had no professional training… of singing

15 hours of LotR Heaven in NYC!

Phaeton: with an MSRP starting at over $64,000, I think Volkswagon is barking up the wrong tree; this is not a car VW should have put in production. No matter what the Detroit News might say. When the company needs to run TV commercials explaining why you should pay them more money for a car than they’ve ever tried to charge before, the execs ought to realize the battle is lost before it’s even begun.

There, through the hazy desert glare, I see

Luis walking over sand with a torn up t-shirt

Covering his head and cracked cheap sunlasses

Over his eyes. Ojos.

Luis is part of a line of 14 people wandering

Through the southwest sands, aiming at the

Heart of America. All of them wear dirty clothes

With Spanish words. Palabras.

The group has been walking in the sand

For four days now and they have little food

Left, though there are many days yet to

Travel with hunger. Hambre.

Luis walks next to his nephew, who grew up in the

Same little city where all his people lived.

Men from the Parti came through and when they

Left it was time. Tiempo.

Yes, time, because the nephew came to Luis,

Stood up with all his 16 years and said what

neither Luis nor his father would say, that

Time was gone. Ido.

“Walk away, walk away, walk away. We must

Walk away from our home,” the nephew chanted.

“Walk away, walk away, to the north we must go.

Leave this life behind. En el pasado.”

Over a dozen others joined the nephew and Luis,

Gathering together what they could not leave,

Cramming in food, water, a few towels, but

No one had a hat. Sombrero.

The sand is all that any of them can think of now

No one thinks about America or the bright

Picture on the tv that drew them into this trip

Across the desert. Desierto.

Luis played games with his nephew at first

Taking their minds off the drudgery and sore feet.

And each day he grew more quiet, less able or

Willing to smile. Sonrisa.

After a week, three of their fellows sat down.

They were at the side of a road some miles

From any town. One, tow, three, they

Simply sat down. Abajo.

The nephew stopped walking himself, to see

If they were all taking a rest but no others

Did and soon those three were lost behind a

Curve in the road. Camino.

“Walk away, walk away, walk away. We must

Walk away from our home,” the nephew chanted.

“Walk away, walk away, to the north we must go.

Leave this life behind. En el pasado.”

One day, with the sun high above them the troop

Came to a small lake. There were no other people

There and when a small woman ran in she

Never came out. Nunca reaparecido.

Weeks passed, days where not one word was said,

Though all of them just knew when it was time to

Rest or eat or sleep, and each night they slept

Knowing they were closer. Más cerca.

Luis ate all the food he had packed on a Tuesday;

Nephew finished his that Thursday. Friday, a

Package with more supplies was at their feet

In the morning. Manana.

Thought came slowly to him, his mind occupied

Watching a bird circle over a hill or a breeze

Pass through the wild grass off the road.

It was enough. Bastantes.

Finally they came to a patch of strange sand

Whiter than any sand in Mexico, softer and hotter,

But in this place the walkers lost all connection

To their homes. Hogares.

“Walk away, walk away, walk away. We must

Walk away from our home,” the nephew chanted.

“Walk away, walk away, to the north we must go.

Leave this life behind. En el pasado.”

There was no more food, no more water

No more mysterious food parcels and they could

Not find the way out from this white sand.

Where I watched. Miré.

Only four days passed from when they entered

Four days that stretched out from morning to night

When the Sun simply vanished from above, the

Stars came late. Tarde.

None of them was hungry, none of them was

Tired, none of them asked where they were

None of them laughed, none of them cried

None of them smiled. Sonrieron.

I was laying on a ridge not far above the sands

Watching but not being seen, listening

Though there was nothing to hear, waiting

But for what? ¿Qué?

In time I expect that something will happen

Someone, perhaps, will drive in to their

Circle with a truck, a laugh, and tell

Them to climb aboard. Subida encendido.

“Walk away, walk away, walk away. We must

Walk away from our home,” the nephew chanted.

“Walk away, walk away, to the north we must go.

Leave this life behind. En el pasado.”

Last night my Logitech wireless keyboard/mouse combo died and the Big Guy graciously spent 90 minutes to diagnose the situation. But the bottom line is that for now I’m stuck using the laptop’s built-in keyboard and touchpad and I don’t like it. Dammit.

The Big Guy and I made our way back to the SJ Convention Center for the San Jose 2004 International Auto Show. Note that poor planning by yours truly regarding camera batteries means far fewer pics than intended. I missed (taking photos of) the Mustang Concept Car, the Hyundai Tiburon, Chevrolet SSR, Cadillac XLR and two sweet Aston Martins.

I have some questions about the new ‘guest worker’ plan announced by Bush this week, plus similar concerns to those expressed by David Abraham. Most significant questions right now are: (1) current work visas require the employer to attempt to hire an American first, what does the proposal say on this and (2) what happens when a three year period is up and the worker has no job, will he be forced to leave? These need answers before anything is put into law by Congress.