Archive for January 2012

Worst titles of 2011

Listed chronologically:

“Play that funky Muzak, white boys” (15 January)
“The plain in Jane is mainly on the brain” (18 January)
“Doody now for the future” (19 January)
“No shake, Sherlock” (7 February)
“It’s worse than that; it’s debt, Jim” (26 February)
“Emulsional rescue” (17 March)
“Celibate, good times, come on” (24 March)
“These boots aren’t made for gawking” (2 April)
“Where the gripes of Roth are stored” (13 April)
“The bulb of Damocles” (22 April)
“Baryon, my wayward son” (26 April)
“Dallas aforethought” (17 May)
“Fees to meet you” (26 May)
“Where is your cod now?” (12 June)
“Pedal to the meddle” (27 June)
“Pawlenty of nothing” (10 July)
“Pentode the wet socket” (10 July)
“Blue screen of defecation” (14 July)
“Little douche coupe” (11 August)
“I shocked the sheriff” (11 August)
“Ignite to remember” (16 August)
“My baby does Bernanke-Panke” (13 September)
“Van hailing” (22 September)
“Domo arigato, mystery motto” (23 September)
“Isthmus shopping” (2 October)
“Post rock, therefore propter rock” (3 October)
“Blather, rinse, repeat” (15 October)
“They can’t be beet” (26 October)
“Syntax evasion” (11 November)
“I am he as you are he as you are me and EMI is shattered” (14 November)
“I was told there would be no polymath” (30 November)
“Dickery, Doc” (7 December)
“District of Clumsier” (8 December)
“Tempest in a B-cup” (15 December)

(Total number of 2011 posts: 1,978. Also: Worst Titles of 2010; Worst Titles of 2009; Worst Titles of 2008; Worst Titles of 2007; Worst Titles of 2006.)

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The end of the world

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It’s all yours

I’m declaring an open thread to start out the year. Do your — well, not “worst” exactly, but you know what I mean.

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A whole Lada car

This unassuming little notchback is the latest offering from Russia’s AvtoVaz:

2012 Lada Granta

Renault owns a quarter of AvtoVaz, but the Lada Granta shows little or no Frenchmobile influence. To save a few rubles, the Granta was spun off the smaller Kalina platform, so you’ll find little of the latest and putatively greatest technology: the sole engine offered at first is a 1.6-liter SOHC four with about 80 hp, stirred by a five-speed manual. (On the way: a 1.4L DOHC four with 90 hp. Still no automatics.)

Left Lane News reports on pricing and options:

Granta buyers will be able to choose between two trim levels. The first is called “standard” and carries a base price of $7,500, $400 more than Lada was shooting for when it was developing the car. For that price the Granta has to settle with black plastic bumpers, steel wheels and roll up windows.

The second trim is called “classic” and is much better equipped. For $8,500, customers get luxury features such as power steering, electric windows, ABS, a stereo, and power door locks. A GPS system, side curtain airbags and ESP are on the options list.

AvtoVaz hopes to sell 100,000 of these little boxes a year, and reportedly already has orders for 20,000. No word on any export versions, though there’s obviously no way they’d come to the States, and Lada has mostly withdrawn from the Canadian market.

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Overlord of the flies

One of the inherent difficulties in politics as we know it is that one man’s boon is another man’s boondoggle, that “roads to nowhere” might actually go somewhere, possibly even somewhere worth going.

Set the controls for the spring of 2008, and here’s what we find:

A conservative fiscal watchdog group recently gave Rep. Mike Thompson, D-St. Helena [CA], the “French Kiss Off Award” for sending $211,000 to France to study an agricultural pest.

The mock honor came from Washington, D.C.-based Citizens Against Government Waste, which publishes an annual compendium of what the group considers pork barrel legislation.

Thompson defended his earmark:

“The Olive Fruit Fly has infested thousands of California olive groves and is the single largest threat to the U.S. olive and olive oil industries,” he said. “I secured $748,000 for olive fruit fly research and irradiation in the (fiscal year 2008) appropriations bill for the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The USDA will use some of that funding for their research facility in France. This USDA research facility is located in France because Mediterranean countries like France have dealt with the Olive Fruit Fly for decades, while California has only been exposed since the late 1990s. This is not uncommon; the USDA has several international research facilities throughout the world, including Australia, China and Argentina.”

And in olive-growing portions of California, Bactrocera oleae is indeed a threat:

From what I’m hearing around the Valley, this past Fall’s crop was particularly hard hit. Ours certainly was. We didn’t have a large crop as it was, since our trees seem to be on an every other year boom and bust cycle. One year we’ll have just enough olives for brining for our own use, the next year we’ll be hauling bin after bin down to the Community Press. Still, what we had this year — apparently every single olive on every single tree — was crawling with Olive Fruit Fly larvae.

Still, they hit on a solution that didn’t require a government grant:

Seems the one thing these little critters like better than olives is torula yeast. Don’t look for this in your local health food store. One article calls it “a questionable taste additive”. Apparently, it’s put in cheaper processed foods and dog chow to enhance the flavor. Although, having smelled it, I’m not sure who would find it palatable unless you like a gamey, meaty, yeasty flavor.

But, as I said, the Olive Fruit Fly loves it. And if you buy a load of $15 ball traps and bait them with the pellets, you can wipe out most, if not all of your invading flies. Or you can save the $15 per tree for the traps and do what John did. Collect as many old plastic water bottles as you can find, punch holes in them, drop in a torula yeast tablet apiece and string one from each of your olive trees.

A wholly admirable, and mostly organic — and I suppose you could recycle those old plastic water bottles — solution to a difficult problem. Whether the USDA, in Paris or otherwise, would have figured this out, I couldn’t tell you; on the other hand, just because a given research project sounds amusing doesn’t mean that it isn’t serious.

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Strange search-engine queries (309)

Another year, which means another bunch of Mondays, which means this series goes on and on. And on.

“amc” “pacer” “clock radio”:  Nice to see that one of these ancient goldfish bowls is finding a new life on a night stand.

car has transmission problem. can i drivr on freeway:  For about ten, maybe fifteen feet. Suggestion: sell it and buy an AMC Pacer.

deadpool filthy rotted “schroeder” mike seth:  I don’t know about the rest of you, but I figure that if he’s already filthy and rotted, I’m thinking that he’s ineligible for the current dead pool.

i feel like im losing my social skills:  Is this the same guy who’s asked this three times before? In that case, the answer is Yes.

people keep stealing my pens:  You wouldn’t have this problem if you had some social skills.

“second life” “meghan’s” shemales:  So that’s where all your Linden dollars are going.

grease pick up blogs:  Conversely, blogs can and do pick up grease.

HAS BEANS:  And, if he has a blog, grease to fry them in.

girl in bra in jail:  The fetishists are getting ever more specific.

zooey deschanel bun in the oven:  For now, she remains bunless, so to speak.

what is lesley gore’s bra size:  It’s her undies, and she’ll talk if she wants to.

michele bachmann legs:  By now you should have already seen this picture:

Michele Bachmann sitting quietly

(Via The Bachmann Cometh.)

a visual i didn’t need:  Geez, you should have told me that before I posted the picture.

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Quick and non-dirty

“Less is more,” said Mies, though hardly anyone seemed to believe him.

Jane Pratt apparently believed him. The old Jane magazine had a feature called “Makeunder,” as opposed to the ubiquitous makeover: replace the overdone face with something minimal and fresher-looking. And now we’re seeing the Makeunder on xojane.com, very much in the same spirit.

The subject of the most recent Makeunder is Sammy “Sweetheart” Giancola of Jersey Shore, who says it takes her two hours to prep, preen, and otherwise primp. Total time for the Makeunder: five minutes flat. Apparently Mies was right after all.

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Debtholes

Last fall, I took a rhetorical shot at “all these third-party debt weasels who buy written-off accounts at pennies on the dollar and then robocall everyone in the Western Hemisphere in an effort to find someone stupid enough to pay them.”

Will Truman, far more patient than I, describes his own experience with such:

The message goes something like “This call is for Jane Jones. If this is not Jane Jones, please hang up now. This involves debt collection and if you are not Jane Jones and you do not hang up, you are guilty of violating federal confidentiality laws.”

Of course, my answering machine doesn’t hang up. So, it’s a felon. I guess I am, too, since I have listened to the message all the way through. Oddly, there’s nothing after the stern warning that tells me anything that I didn’t already know from before the warning except for the name of the debt collection agency and the 1-800 number to call in order to pay up. But you know, that would actually be a helpful thing to tell me before the warning, if only so that I can call them back and let them know that Jane Jones can no longer be reached at this number. If I call back, though, they will know that I listened longer than I should have (and that my answering machine and I are both felons).

Jane Jones, of course, was not available for comment.

The catch here, as you may have already discerned, is that if you don’t pick up, they’re not going to assume that Jane Jones isn’t here; they’re going to keep the little autodialer running just as long as they can until someone is insane enough to say “I will pay.” It is, I believe, in our best interest to let these people continue to run up enormous toll charges, thereby reducing their return on their dubious “investment.”

I figure that if I actually owe someone money, they can by God send me a proper bill. If they can’t, screw ‘em.

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