Benjamin Kepple

Report: Brady Quinn Suffering from Delusions of Grandeur

WRITING IN SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, columnist Peter King tackles a subject near and dear to the hearts of Cleveland Browns fans everywhere: namely, what the hell is wrong with Brady Quinn?

Mr King makes the reasonable case that Quinn's decision to hold out for better terms on a contract is not going to help him in the long run, and that everyone from die-hard Browns fans to club personnel are wondering why the devil Quinn hasn't figured this out. As if that wasn't bad enough, the rookie quarterback apparently believes he is God's gift to Cleveland football, even though with each passing day fewer and fewer people in northeastern Ohio hold that view.

Mr King writes:

But the Quinn story is a little bit different because, after he was drafted 22nd overall by Cleveland, it was widely assumed his experienced agent, Tom Condon, would want the Notre Dame quarterback to get paid far better than the slot for the No. 22 pick. There's some logic there because Quinn performed better his last two years at Notre Dame than a guy who you'd normally see get taken in the 20s. But the slot is the slot. And the Browns are not paying him like the No. 11 pick just because they had him graded far better than No. 22.

It isn't just the front office that's frustrated with Quinn. Players are usually business-will-be-business guys, but I got a sense a few of his teammates think Quinn is out of mind for not being in camp. And he shouldn't expect a welcome mat whenever he arrives. After one minicamp practice in the spring, veteran nose tackle Ted Washington, whose role, in part, is to put rookies in their place, yelled at Quinn for being such an attention magnet. "Remember, you ain't done nothing yet," Washington hollered. Spirit of the team stuff, yes. But pointed and with meaning.

I'm told the Browns and Condon are extremely close on the dollar amount in the contract, with only structure and early guaranteed money now standing in the way. It's at times like this when an intelligent player such as Quinn needs to make a call to his agent and say: "Whatever we're arguing about right now in terms of structure isn't worth it. I need to be in camp and I need to be in camp yesterday."

Compounding the problem is that Quinn did an autograph show in Cleveland earlier this summer and charged $75 per autographed photo. Talk about rubbing the locals the wrong way. That, combined with this ill-advised holdout, led one Browns insider to tell me the team wouldn't be surprised when Quinn finally reported to training camp, there would probably be a segment of fans on hand that would boo him. It's absolutely amazing that Quinn, who could have run for mayor in May, now would be lucky to get elected dog-catcher.

It is The Rant's professional opinion that Quinn is a coddled and mediocre quarterback, whose collegiate performance was not indicative of any great talent but rather the efficacy of the Notre Dame squad on which he played. It is also The Rant's opinion that Quinn, who got his ass beaten like a steel drum when he faced better collegiate squads at Michigan, USC and LSU, is this year's Ryan Leaf Waiting to Happen.

This is not to condemn the Browns for choosing Quinn in the first round of the NFL draft. Not at all. The Browns were extraordinarily clever, in my mind, to trade draft slots to the Dallas Cowboys for the chance to pick up Quinn. They had already done great picking Joe Thomas, the offensive lineman, in the first round and so to pick up Quinn later in that round was an inspired choice.

However, it seems strange the Quinn camp doesn't recognize just how far the Browns went out on a limb for their man. After all, had the Browns not drafted Quinn in the first round, it seems perfectly conceivable to think the Great White Hype could well have fallen into the second round of the draft, in which his earnings potential would be impacted even more than it already has been. Yet Quinn's agent apparently believes his client deserves to get paid like one of the draft's top choices. This is unrealistic at best and insanity at worst.

The reason Quinn went at No. 22 was because a lot of NFL teams took a look at Quinn and reasonably decided he wasn't all that special. It also seems doubtful the Browns thought Quinn would be a panacea for their woes -- after all, they already had two somewhat decent quarterbacks in the persons of Charlie Frye and Derek Anderson. As such, Cleveland's choice of Quinn was nothing more than a value proposition, a chance to get a potentially good quarterback on the cheap. If it paid off, great; if not, Quinn was trade bait. For, as Mr King noted in his column, Quinn hasn't done anything yet.

I had not heard the story that Quinn had charged $75 for autographed photos while in Cleveland. However, knowing the northeast Ohio area as I do, I can imagine people looked upon this as a special sort of perfidy, a shameless and wretched act committed solely for personal gain and without consideration of the fans' feelings. It undoubtedly came off as a move reminiscent of Art Modell, whose popularity in northeastern Ohio is a few steps below that of syphilis. In hindsight, it may not have been the best decision for Quinn.

As for this holdout business, if not ended soon, it will also prove not to have been the best decision for Quinn. The boy and his entourage apparently believe Cleveland needs them more than they need Cleveland, but I think that opinion is based on a grave misreading of both the Browns organization and, perhaps more importantly, the Browns' fans. After all, this is a team that has suffered for years and the idea that Cleveland's downtrodden fans will warm to Quinn like a campfire in the Yukon doesn't carry a lot of water. Cleveland's fans are going to want results, results and more results before they open their arms up to the brat, and if they don't get them they'll have no qualms about running him out of town on a rail.

Alleged Men Allege "Ladies Night" Discrimination

LOYAL RANT READERS know that when it comes to matters of romance, I am a staunch traditionalist. I refuse to allow my dates to pay for dinner, I like sending flowers and I am polite and respectful to my dates. In short, I try to conduct myself in a manner befitting an educated and modern man, while still adhering to the old standards that call for men to act, well, like men.

Apparently, these old standards are not holding up the way they once did. This was made perfectly clear to me a while back when I was out at a local watering hole with friends and colleagues from work, and discovered that at this particular establishment, the male clientele were largely mouth-breathing vermin lacking both in manners and self-control. Their behavior was so appalling, in fact, that I spent much of the evening in a sort of shocked silence, watching as the drunken louts wandered about and vainly attempted to remedy the fact they would be going home alone that night.

However, my utter and complete contempt for such wretchedness does not stop there. The way I see it, men -- simply because they're men -- need to hold themselves to pretty high standards. At the very least, they ought hold up to the Basic Commandments of Manliness as Expressed in Major Motion Pictures, viz. and to wit:

1. When faced with adversity, shoulder your burden appropriately. Acting like Johnny Fontaine is discouraged.

2. A man ought contribute his fair financial share to a relationship. Not doing so is a failure that must be corrected. Purposely failing to do so, and overly taking advantage of your partner's money for your own gain, is an extremely grievous sin. This principle is perhaps most succinctly summed up in Ace Rothstein's famous take down of ne'er-do-well Lester Diamond in the coffee shop. However, this principle has been established among men for millenia, as one sees in the Inferno, Canto XVIII, 64-66:

While he was speaking one of the devils struck him
With his long whip, and said to him: "Go on,
Pimp, you'll make no money from women here."

3. Complaining about things you ought not complain about will put you in a bad light. This is perhaps best shown in that scene from "Ghostbusters" when Venkman and the EPA guy square off in the Mayor's office. But we'll get back to this in a bit.

For, speaking of complaining about things one ought not complain about, I note with displeasure that various men -- or, rather, the weak, soulless, excuses for men these people are -- have launched a campaign against the practice of bars and other establishments offering "ladies nights." Ladies nights, of course, are promotional events in which women are offered free or discounted admission as an incentive to hang around said establishments, thus giving men more of an incentive to show up and spend their money on overpriced, watered-down liquor, in the largely vain hope they'll get lucky that evening.

Perhaps the most noteworthy example of this untouchable caste is Mr Roy Den Hollander, a lawyer in New York, who recently whined to ABC News about the brutal injustice he has suffered as a result of this practice:

Roy Den Hollander is a New York lawyer who says Ladies' Night drinks and admission specials are unconstitutional, and he says he's suffered personally. Hollander is also a graduate of Columbia Business School and seems like a guy who should be able to get into a decent bar and afford the drinks. So what irks him?

"I'm tired of having my rights violated and being treated as a second-class citizen," said Hollander, who is seeking class-action status for his suit in federal court. ...

Hollander seeks to be the lead plaintiff and the representing attorney in a class-action suit against several Manhattan venues including the China Club, Copacabana Nightclub, A.E.R. Nightclub and Sol. As a patron of these venues, he alleges that Ladies' Night discounts violate the 14th Amendment that guarantees equal protection to "similarly situated" persons.

If this thing actually DOES go to court, you can imagine the defense would have a field day.

DEFENSE ATTORNEY: And therefore, ISN'T IT TRUE that ---
PLAINTIFF: Objection! Your Honor, the defense is badgering the witness, who happens to be, well, me.
JUDGE: Oh? Counselor, what do you say to that?
DEFENSE ATTORNEY: It's true, Your Honor. This man has no dick.
PLAINTIFF: HEY!
JUDGE: Overruled! Continue, counselor.
DEFENSE ATTORNEY: Well, that's what I heard!

So help me out here: what kind of man not only whines about Ladies Nights, but also seems to honestly believe that he is having his rights violated and being treated like a second-class citizen? Did I miss something? I mean, the charge here is that the man essentially has to pay a few bucks more for his night out. Not that he was given a literacy test when he went to register for the vote, not that he is being forced to use separate water fountains, and not that he was failing to receive equal protection from the state, but that he has to pay a few dollars more for his night out -- money, one ought note, that he would probably spend ANYWAY on drinks for the ladies whom he charges get an unfair advantage. (Unless the guy is really a jackass, which given the suit I suppose is within the realm of possibility).

What goes on in a man's head to get him to such a wretched, puerile, miserable state? I mean, did he just get turned down one too many times and decided to take it out on all the nightclubs where he got shot down? And for those readers who might, in the back of their minds, wonder whether under the present application of the law that Mr Hollander might have a case, dismiss that thought immediately, because that ain't the point. The point is that no real man would ever consider a Ladies Night promotion somehow undesirable, much less actually try to make a federal case out of it.

After all, Ladies Night promotions are perfectly in tune with the immutable laws of economics. As such, they should be unequivocably supported without fail. A typical nightclub can attract plenty of male customers, who have a high demand (D) for female customers. To meet this demand, the nightclub must ensure that it has a high supply (S) of female customers to hit equilibrium. There are plenty of ways a nightclub can push the supply curve upward and outward, as we can see here:

Clever readers will note this analysis does not conform to traditional supply-demand models. However, the given parameters do not conform to traditional supply-demand economics, but rather reflect societal norms, pressures and other factors. You know, because men like to be around women. Also, our model is based on an open society where the numbers of men and women are roughly equal and for all intents and purposes infinite.

Anyway, the point is that Ladies Night promotions tend to -- wait for it -- attract women to nightclubs, particularly nightclubs they might not have otherwise attended. As such, they can only be good things for men. Mr Hollander and his ilk's rash attack against this cherished institution is thus an attack against all men, and accordingly, he must be cruelly mocked and ridiculed until he drops his suit accordingly. If that doesn't work, we must call upon the day's Leading Arbiters of Manliness -- I refer to the Men of the Square Table -- to perform an inquest on Mr Hollander's Membership in the Male Gender.

Oh, wait. The ad series got canceled. Well, in that case, this calls for drastic action.

Thus, I, Benjamin Kepple, DO hereby issue a temporary injunction REVOKING Mr Hollander's Man Status and all the rights and benefits deriving from and associated with it. Further, I DEMAND that Mr Hollander SURRENDER to an established Court his superior pay, superior benefits and his football-watching privileges, and SUBMIT to any other remedy the Court deems just and proper, until a recognized authority on these matters can issue its own superseding judgment. SO ORDERED at Manchester, New Hampshire, on July 31, 2007.

Also, since Mr Hollander's action would almost certainly cause American women economic injury, The Rant would politely request that women abstain from sleeping with Mr Hollander until he changes his mind about things. Hey, if that tactic could end a war, it should cause Mr Hollander to fold like a cheap tent.

An Open Letter to Stonewall Kitchen LLC of York, Maine

TO: Stonewall Kitchen

FR: Benjamin Kepple

RE: Mustard is supposed to be hot

---------

DEAR SIRS,

RECENTLY, I PURCHASED a small container of your "Horseradish Mustard" product, which according to your Web site is "intensely flavored with the distinctive taste of horseradish" and will "enhance any recipe" in which a customer makes use of it. As Stonewall Kitchen LLC is a purveyor of gourmet foods, and I picked up this small container from a gourmet foods store, I thought for sure I would have a good experience with your "Horseradish Mustard." Oh, how wrong I was.

This evening, I prepared chicken sandwiches for my supper and found, much to my great annoyance, that not only was your "Horseradish Mustard" not even remotely spicy or intense, it had a flavor that could only be charitably described as "delicate." Mustard, as you well know, is not supposed to be delicate. Mustard is supposed to be hot -- hence the name, derived from the Latin mustum ardens, in which ardens can be translated as "burning." Your mustard was so not burning that I was forced to rely on hot pepper sauce to get some kick, and I almost turned to a jar of jalapeno pepper slices I had to derive the heat I desired; the heat, I would again note, that most certainly did not come from your "horseradish mustard."

Now, as I see it, there are two possible explanations for why your mustard did not cut it.

First, it is entirely conceivable the small container of mustard I bought had been on the shelf of the gourmet foods purveyor for quite some time, meaning the fiery mustard heat had dissipated. Certainly this has been seen in other prepared mustards and so it is entirely plausible this was also the case here. If this is in fact the case, I would encourage you to improve your quality control accordingly.

However, it is also entirely conceivable you purposely designed the "horseradish mustard" to be not all-that-spicy, in which case you are committing treason against gastronomy and a fraud against buyers of your "horseradish mustard," which notably failed to cause my eyes to water, my sinuses to clear up, my pores to open or my body to sweat. Indeed, the spice kick I have now is solely due to the liberal application of hot pepper sauce to my dinner. This spick kick is something which your "horseradish mustard" ought to have done.

I'm sorry, but when I applied half the jar of your condiment to my sandwiches, and spread the stuff on with what an impartial observer could only describe as reckless abandon, I expected a spice kick. Yet I did not get it, leaving me a most aggrieved and disappointed customer. If I had wanted a bland mustard whose sole taste could be best described as "a little tangy," I would have picked up some goddamn French's.

Given this particularly unfortunate experience, I would ask that Stonewall Kitchen look at its quality control processes and tinker with its recipes so that when you advertise a mustard as hot, it's actually hot. I don't think that's too much to ask in this wonderful day of economic globalization.

Thank you for your time and attention in this matter.

Sincerely,
BJK

It's FAAAAAAANdemonium!

YOU KNOW, I'VE BEEN to some crazy arena football games in my day, but last night's match-up between my local Manchester Wolves squad and our evil minor-league rival, the Florida Firecats, has to take the cake.

Last night was Manchester's "Fan Appreciation Night," and I must say the whole place descended into faaaaandemonium rather quickly -- but in a good way. It was a remarkably close but remarkably fun game and a lot of that had to do with the Zany Antics taking place both on and off the field.

For instance, in an arena football first for me, the back judge got drilled in the head with a pass from Manchester's very own Mark Radlinski. Fortunately, the referee was not hurt and he was able to continue with the game despite getting beaned with an absolute bullet of a throw. The referee's sacrifice was rewarded later, when his block was ruled the "stop of the game" up on the jumbotron.

Also, I have to give credit to one young lad who won the "touchdown dance" competition with moves so bold and smooth that he received a standing ovation from many fans, including myself. The segment is simple: three youngsters are each given a football and run into the endzone with it, after which they perform various dance moves to celebrate a touchdown. The winner is chosen through popular acclaim. Tonight's winner, a boy perhaps 11 or 12 years of age and standing all of 5'2" or so, took the football and ran with it into the endzone. After dropping the ball, he walked over and gave a big, long hug to a very surprised (and very cute) cheerleader. This received raucous acclaim from the crowd and the boy won the competition with ease.

The smoothness of this move made me momentarily consider whether I could do the same thing during the after-game on-field meet-up, but I realized a) I would get slapped and b) stomped on by the offensive line. But I definitely have to give the kid credit -- even though I fear he'll end up being a heartbreaker someday.

In a related display of chutzpah, a teenager won a barbecue grill by showing off his "grill" -- which he had cleverly adorned with false gold teeth. I don't know what exactly he'll do with the thing, but he definitely earned it.

Speaking of chutzpah, one of the enjoyable things about this game was that the Florida players seemed to have a lot of fun in a very boisterous and taunting manner. During the pre-game show, it appeared from the stands as if one of the Florida players gave the new Miss New Hampshire his phone number -- or at least tried to put the moves on her -- as both were down on the field. I got a kick out of this. Also, when a key penalty went against the Wolves during the game, one Florida player stood behind the referee and mimicked his call of the penalty. While annoying, it was funny.

The best part, though, was that Manchester got into the act too. After scoring a touchdown on a play in which Florida had obviously been offsides, Manchester coach Ben Bennett went out on the field and himself mimicked the referee's call from the same position. Yeah.

For that matter, so did the crowd. The fans and players shouted at each other. For instance, after one play in which Manchester wide receiver Ari Confesor took a tough hit into the boards, one of the Florida players not involved in the play did a little dance. This annoyed the crowd greatly, as you can see from my admittedly inexact summary of the discussion:

MANCHESTER FAN: Hey! What are you dancing for? The guy gets slammed into the wall and you're dancing?
FIRECAT: Drink your beer!
SECOND MANCHESTER FAN: Go back to Florida!

Also, I had another first this past evening, in witnessing a particularly crazy play in which not one, not two, but THREE players went over the boards and into the first row not five feet away from me. They landed on top of two very surprised fans whose drinks went flying and who just didn't have time to prepare for the collision. My reaction -- "Dear GOD" -- pretty much sums up how everyone reacted.

There were also two other firsts that I saw. First, I noticed that Blitz, everyone's favorite mascot, was more than happy to oblige when hot female fans decided they wanted to hug him. Second, the conclusion of the season-long ice-cream eating contest showed the event was similar to the old saying about making partner at a law firm: you get rewarded for eating ice cream ... with more ice cream. The "winning" competitors chosen from over the season were offered the chance to beat the world's ice-cream eating record: roughly 32 scoops of the stuff in nine minutes, 22 seconds.

Now, after about two scoops of ice cream, I get brain freeze. But these folks were ... well ... committed to the task at hand. To the point where they started eating with their hands and shoveling the ice cream into their mouths. To the point where at the end of it, one competitor had ice cream all over his face and running down his chin. It is amazing what people will do for ... well, ice cream.

As for the game, it was -- as I said -- a close one. Manchester started out the game in typical Manchester fashion, by which I mean they gave up a touchdown on the first drive and then found themselves stopped with a field goal at the endzone. Florida recovered quickly, and as their next drive approached our goal line one of their players decided to get fancy with the ball and reach out for a couple of extra yards. This prompted defensive back Allistair Sebastien to say, "Oh, hell no," and grab the ball out of the Florida player's hand as he was heading towards the ground. There was no whistle. Mr Sebastien ran back 20 yards or so and soon afterwards, Manchester was ahead 10-3.

After some good back and forth and some defensive stops, Manchester was ahead of Florida 22-21 in the closing minute of the first half when, to everyone's surprise, the Wolves went for an on-side kick. Our recovery was flawless and we were able to score a touchdown on the ensuing possession, giving Florida just seconds to try a failed attempt at scoring themselves. When we got the ball first to start the second half, Manchester marched down the field and scored another touchdown, putting us up 35-21.

So far so good. But then, Florida came back. Next thing we knew, it was 42-40 and Florida tried to tie the game, but with no success. Late in the fourth quarter, we marched down the field, only to be stopped near the end zone and to make a field goal attempt. Now the score was 45-40, but there was roughly a minute to play and under the league's timing rules, more than enough time to score a touchdown.

As the clock wound down, the excitement was intense. The crowd -- the largest of any home game thus far this year, I would imagine -- was super-involved and shouting for the defense. The defense did what they could but Florida kept marching, and with just four seconds to go, a Florida player caught a pass, made a quick move and went into the endzone.

Oh, woe. Oh, calam -- but wait! The referees ruled the Florida player had been pushed out of bounds at the last minute! Still, that gave Florida one last shot with five yards to victory and four seconds left on the clock. This, simply put, was it. The crowd was on its feet. The play was called. And ....

We won! We won we won we won! Manchester 45, Florida 40.

Not only did that increase my arena-football attendance winning streak to twelve games -- the last loss I witnessed was on June 23, 2006 -- but it also means Manchester gets at least one home playoff game. I already have arranged for the tickets and will be there on Friday for the playoff opener. YAY! MORE FOOTBALL! And since playoff tickets are cheaper than regular-season games, this is like some kind of bonus.

This team may give me heartburn but I like their chances to win this year's ArenaCup. Go Wolves!

I Must Admit ...

ONE OF THE BIG REASONS I'm looking forward to this year's football season is because we'll have an all-new, updated, 2007 version of this classic commercial:

And from 2005 ...

Eight Days to Go ...

Now Here's a Scary Thought

SO MY BROTHER sent me a nice note recently about my new football-related top banner. He liked it, he said, except he really thought I should make one improvement:

JESSE: Dude, I like the new banner, but I have to say… I think you should incorporate Marty into it!

I offered up a pleasant but reasoned response to this suggestion:

ME: If I decide to have a banner in which all the people I DON'T LIKE in football are on there, I'll certainly consider it :-D.

Soon afterwards, I got a response. I reacted as one might expect:

JESSE: Say, something like this, perhaps?

ME: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

I should, however, note that Jesse's banner would have been perfect if he had only included Jerry Jones in place of Art Rooney. Mr Rooney would have wanted it that way, because Mr Rooney would not have wanted anything to do with players like Messrs Owens and Manning.

Cat Food, People. Cat. Food.

THIS WEEK, FIDELITY INVESTMENTS released a rather alarming study that found people aren't saving enough in their 401(k) accounts. While I fully admit the cynics among us might quip this "news" is about as alarming as word the sun rises in the east, it's the numbers contained within the study that are cause for concern.

Typical Baby Boomers -- who are now between the ages of 43 and 61 -- have $38,000 in their 401(k) accounts, according to Fidelity, which is in a good position to know these things. $38,000. Typical Generation Xers -- that would be my generation, between the ages of 27 and 42 -- have just $15,000. Typical Generation Yers -- those between the ages of 18 and 26 -- have a pathetic $2,100 saved. While average balances are much higher -- respectively, $89,000, $34,000 and $6,000 -- this is because higher-earners are skewing the pool.

So, I'll say it again. $38,000. It's a figure that ranges from unnerving at best to catastrophic at worst. Let's do some quick calculations and show why.

If we assume a typical worker is making $50,000 per year, and saves 7 pc of his income in a 401(k) -- that's roughly the average deferral rate -- that works out to annual contributions of $3,500 per annum. If we assume post-inflation growth of 5 pc per year, a 43-year-old starting out with $38,000 will have about $270,000 at age 65. Under the four-percent-rule (a good rule of thumb to prevent inflation and withdrawals from eating your account), this would generate retirement income of $10,800 per year or $900 per month. Before taxes. Now, that's not bad, especially if folks can draw on other sources of retirement income, like pensions and IRAs and Social Security -- but I bet a lot of folks would prefer it to be higher. I mean, I think folks would want to have fun in their retirement, and not have to content themselves with watching daytime television.

On the other hand, if you're 61 and have $38,000 in your account, that will add up to just $61,000 or so when you're 65 and get your gold watch. That works out to income of $2,440 per annum or about $200 per month. Before taxes. If one has plenty of other income, that may not be a concern; but I have a feeling that most folks in this spot will end up relying -- God help them -- on Social Security to pay most of the bills. As time goes on, and emergencies and other matters cause the money to run out, this will almost certainly mean the retiree will end up living in some soulless high-rise housing project, where narcotics dealing takes place in the stairwells and the poor residents end up seriously considering Fluffy's supper so they can afford their medications.

So Baby Boomers should save more. But younger people shouldn't take it easy either. After all, this is the best time to save because we're not dealing with college educations and the kids' braces and kitchen renovations. Besides, let's be perfectly honest -- we're completely hosed when it comes to Social Security. (The program is expected to go broke about when I retire, so I'm figuring that a restructured program will pay me about half what I'm "owed" under current rules.) So, we should save more to reflect the fact our Government is going to ream us accordingly.

Of course, there's always the question of how much one should save. Since everyone's circumstances are different, it's a number that everyone must calculate for themselves; but when it comes to a 401(k) plan, I've always liked the 10 pc number. For one thing, it's a nice round number, and if you know me I am all about that. For another, it's enough to ensure a lot of savings while not going overboard with the 401(k), which is just one pillar of a retirement strategy. For a third, saving 10 pc in a 401(k) will eventually mean not missing that 10 pc in one's pay, which will result in a nice surprise come retirement time and you've got more money than you had anticipated needing.

When you're getting your gold watch and a hearty handshake, you'd rather have a nice surprise in store than a not-so-nice one.

(via Boston Gal's Open Wallet)

Great Moments in Broadcasting

EXECUTIVES AT AN Illinois broadcasting company are red-faced after "falling asleep on the job" when requesting call letters from the Federal Communications Commission for new broadcast stations, the Honolulu Star-Bulletin reports in a rather funny story.

Skokie-based KM Communications Inc. requested -- and received -- a particularly unfortunate combination for a low-power digital television station planned for Wailuku, Maui. The Rant will not mention just what this combination was, due to the combination in question, but would note the following three items. First, U.S. broadcasting stations located west of the Mississippi River have call signs starting with the letter K; the call sign in question would NOT go down well with approximately half the U.S. population; and the only scoundrels who would be fine with it tend to drink heavily while complaining about their alimony payments and the supposed crookedness of the nation's family law system.

While the company is thanking its lucky stars THIS particular combination got caught before things got out of hand, executives also rescinded their request for KWTF for a radio station in Arizona. That seemed a bit much. I mean, I don't know about you, but I think that'd be a perfect call sign for one of those all-day talk radio stations. What better call sign* for a station whose sole purpose is to broadcast the remarks of angry radio commenters and their even angrier listeners? KWTF-FM is NOW on the AIR!

This incident is the latest in a long series in which radio stations request clever or stupid call signs and manage to somehow get them past the FCC's auspices. Perhaps the most famous of these was when KENO-AM, Las Vegas' first radio station, managed to get its call letters through without a hitch. (KENO later picked up a sister station, KENO-FM, which later changed its call letters to the even more clever KOMP).

The FCC even has a nice database that people can use to check call-letter assignments. A short search on this site shows there is no KRAP anywhere in America, nor any KVCH or KUR, but there is a KRUD-AM in Honolulu. And east of the Mississippi, there are questionable call signs as well. Springfield, Mass., is home to a talk radio station with the callsign of WHYN-AM. And it's not clear to me whether the folks at the unfortunately named WANK-FM, in Mt. Vernon, Ky., realize the alternative meaning of their call sign.

But I have to give credit to the good folks at WZUP-FM in Rose Hill, NC, for their cleverness in getting such a neat call sign. Unsurprisingly, it is a college radio station. Another college-based radio station, WWJD-FM, plays Christian music from its home base in the stupidly-named town of Pippa Passes, Ky. (This town name is almost as funny as Cooter, Mo., but not really. Yes, Cooter, Mo. It really exists. I passed it on the freeway during my trip. I nearly crashed the car).

Anyway, now that the FCC has automated its call-sign lettering process, it seems almost certain that similar incidents like this are slated to appear. Of course, there are so many four-letter call signs out there. But I wouldn't be surprised to hear down the road that some tiny station in Idaho got KOCK for its letters, or that WSHT managed to get on the air near Buffalo. As the Star-Bulletin story shows, sometimes, things have a way of slipping through.

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* Aside from WFAN-AM, of course. Ira from Staten Island, you're on the air!

Oh, the Annoyances of Modern Life

OVER AT DAVE BARRY'S BLOG, Dave's research assistant Judi Smith has written a post about an issue troubling millions of Americans -- that goddamned e-mail feature that pops up and asks you to send a reply to the sender informing them you have, in fact, read their e-mail.

Of course, I certainly don't mind sending a response if I have a business relationship with the person, and the e-mail in question is an important one and one where the sender truly needs to know if I got it. Unfortunately, this is only the case with approximately 3 pc of the e-mails I get that have the feature activated. As for the remainder, not only do I not know the senders from Adam, the topics of their e-mail are inevitably banal and useless. As such, I react like any American would in such a situation: I openly pray for God to quickly deliver His swift and terrible justice to the sender, and dispatch the wretched cur to the special place in Hell where such people go. (Flatterers: 8th circle, 2nd chasm).

I mean, look. I'm busy. If I'm interested in your e-mail, I'll -- wait for it -- actually write back asking for further information. Until then -- for the love of God -- chill. Sure, it may be that your e-mail is semi-interesting, and if that's the case I'll get back to you in a couple of days when I'm not busy with other, more important things that my bosses wanted done yesterday. In the meantime, have a nice lunch out. Have a martini. Make paper airplanes out of the Dunleavy Report and shoot them around your cubicle. Do not bother me.

And especially don't bother me with a follow-up phone call the next day enquiring if I got your e-mail. Holy cow. Of course I got your e-mail. If I was interested in it, I would have called you and we would have had a nice talk. Calling me -- especially if I'm up to my eyeballs in real work -- is not a way to get me excited and interested in your product or service.

I wish I knew who came up with the brilliant idea that such a feature was not only a good idea, but that it must be used on every single e-mail that gets sent out, no matter how trivial its importance. They could use a good kick. I mean, 99 times out of 100 a simple e-mail will do the job. They all get read. There's no need to be pushy about it.

If there's a silver lining to this mess, though, it's that most people -- being smart and industrious -- intuitively know that a simple e-mail works. They know that responses might not be immediately forthcoming, for one of 100 reasons, but they trust the information got there.

A New Way to Save the Earth AND Pay 19 pc Interest

SO I WAS OUT AT DINNER this evening reading The New York Times and I noticed, buried within the recesses of the Business Day section, that a unit of the General Electric Co. has come up with a new credit card -- a new credit card guaranteed to wipe out guilt! At least that's what I inferred from scribe Claudia Deutsch's lead, at any rate:

Feel guilty about fueling up that gas guzzler or buying that box of incandescent bulbs? Would you feel better if, instead of frequent flier miles or cash, your credit card’s rewards program allowed you to offset your role in global warming?

As one might expect, my answers, respectively, were No and No. But still, for people out there who are feeling guilty about their impact on the environment -- yes, you, with your reliance on modern conveniences like indoor plumbing and electricity! -- this card is just for you.

Cardholders who sign up for the GE Money Earth Rewards Platinum MasterCard -- boy, that's a mouthful -- will, in lieu of useful things like airline miles or actual cash back, pay for carbon offsets. For every $100 purchased on the card, $1 will be spent on a carbon offset.

Carbon offsets, for those unfamiliar with the idea, are voluntary payments people make to offset the environmental damage they're causing through, well, existing. These payments are spent on things like renewable energy projects, tree planting, and other eco-friendly projects that "offset" carbon dioxide emissions from not-eco-friendly places like coal-fired power plants. This, proponents say, will help reduce man's impact on the environment, reduce the effects of climate change, and so on. (Now, if only we could get the developing world on board ...).

Actually, to be perfectly honest, I don't really have anything bad to say about this idea. After all, it seems like a clever way for General Electric to tap a new market for its credit card products. Plus, according to the Times story, GE is heavily involved in its own carbon offset programs as an investor in projects and producer of goods used in these projects. In business, they call this a "win-win." I don't know if GE was clever enough to actively tie the two together, but it sure would be a good idea.

I don't even have anything bad to say about carbon offsets, either. If people are voluntarily making such payments in an effort to reduce their environmental impacts, I can't see how that's anything other than a net good. However, I do take issue with one statement a GE official made in the story, which was this:

“We are not sending a message that you can buy your way out of your environmental responsibility,” said Lorraine Bolsinger, vice president of GE Ecomagination. “We’re offering another tool in the kit for reducing carbon footprints.”

I don't mean to quibble, but let's be honest: the whole reason carbon offsets exist is because people want to buy their way out of their "environmental responsibilites" while still enjoying the fruits of a resource-, energy-rich life. Not that I find anything wrong with this either. These are, after all, voluntary payments and if people want to make them, then that's their business.

However, the trouble with carbon offsets is that they're ungodly inefficient. Consider how the process works. Let's say 10,000 people each spend $100 on carbon offsets, for a total offset payment of $1 million. This money is then sent to the carbon offset processor, which decides where it is spent, but naturally keeping a bit of the money for overhead and such. The remaining money is invested in a wind farm. Several giant windmills are built as a result, and they generate clean power for the electricity market.

Wind power generally costs about $1,000 per kilowatt of capacity to get up and running. So if we say that $900,000 is spent on the turbines and what not, that creates an extra 900 kW worth of electric capacity. If we further assume the plant will run at half-capacity over the year, that will mean a typical output of 450 kW. With a typical residential power bill at 500kWh per month, the new wind plant will create enough energy for several hundred homes.

Let's say the prevailing cost of power is $0.10 per kWh. Assuming constant output of 450 kW, that would result in electricity being generated worth $394,200 per year. It would also offset carbon emissions by about one ton per megawatt-hour, for a total offset of 3,942 tons of CO2 per annum. (0.45 * 8760, the number of hours in a year).

Now let's say that instead of buying carbon offsets, the 10,000 people collectively decide to reduce their power consumption by 15 percent. (They go sparingly on the air conditoning). At 500 kWh per month, that works out to 75 kWh per customer, for a 900 kWh reduction per customer over the course of a year. (At a dime per kWh, that works out to about the same amount spent on the carbon offset). With 10,000 customers, that works out to a total reduction of nine megawatt-hours per year, for a savings of $900,000. Not only that, but each person would save the equivalent of 1,100 pounds of carbon emissions. Not offset, but save. That works out to about 5,500 tons of CO2 per annum (0.55 * 10,000).

This is a simple example but I do think it shows the power of conservation. Not only do people save money instead of spending it, the environmental effects are greater -- for you're not just off-setting the use of coal power or some such, you're actually reducing it. If one expands on this example, one can see the potential benefits are even greater.

Power is a strange resource. Since it can't be stored, it must be constantly produced, and when demand rises sky-high so does its price, as power companies must often buy on the spot market to satisfy their customers' demand. Since demand is so great, new renewable energy projects add just a few drops in the supply bucket, and as such have no impact on price. But if demand were to drop sharply, so would the price. I wasn't able to find information on-line tonight about the price elasticity of electricity, so I don't know how much the power cost might drop, but I think it's a reasonable assumption to say power costs could drop at least moderately.

For instance, let's say our 10,000 customers were joined by a whole bunch of other people who decided to save money and turn off their air conditioning. If that pushed down overall power rates by 1/10th of a cent per kWh, it would save each of our 10,000 customers an additional $5.10 per year, for a total net savings of $51,000 on top of the $900,000 they were already saving. So, to recap: conservation means saving more money and cuts down on environmental nastiness. But mostly it saves money, which one does not do when one voluntarily pays others for carbon offsets.

Speaking of saving money, the interest rate on the new GE Money Earth Rewards Platinum MasterCard ranges from between 13 pc and 19 pc per annum, depending on a cardholder's credit history. It might be worthwhile to forgo the "free" carbon offsets and just pay cash for them when you're feeling particularly guilty. Unless, of course, you can use your offsets to pay for Ted Turner running around in a superhero costume:

CAAAAAAAAAPTAIN PLANET!

Believe!

ONE OF THE SAD THINGS about the Michael Vick indictment, as many have noted, is that it robs Atlanta Falcons fans of a great joy this year -- the hope and anticipation and excitement that goes along with the start of training camp and the pre-season.

Just a month ago, Falcons fans could look to this year's season and hope for the best. Now, they're facing the real possibility of having Joey Harrington as their starting quarterback. Consequently, they're also facing a season that, at best, will result in a Green Bay Packers-like performance and, at worst, an Oakland Raiders-like disaster.

Not only that, but the Falcons fans must gird themselves for weeks, if not months, of mockery. Why, even the baseball players are laughing at the Falcons. Look at the small-time California team giving away free tickets in return for Vick memorabilia, which it will then burn. One could argue that baseball, with its doping scandals, vastly-overpaid stars and teams still suffering from the 1994 strike, has no business telling football about anything. But that is how things stand and for the Falcons this year's outlook seems decidedly bleak.

The good news, though, is that there are 31 other teams in professional football, and all of them -- even Detroit -- can hope against hope that this year will be the year. Obviously, there are teams that have a better shot than others. The New England Patriots -- for reasons I can't fully understand -- are currently far and away the favorite to win Super Bowl XLII. Still, the Pittsburgh Steelers will field a strong team. The Indianapolis Colts will do so as well. That said, one also can't rule out Baltimore, San Diego, Denver, Kansas City, Tennessee, and the New York Jets. Hell, even fans of the Cincinnati Bengals and Buffalo Bills have cause for hope. And in the second-tier NFC, fans of Chicago and New Orleans and Seattle have a great shot at seeing their teams make it to the big dance.

But even the lesser teams can hope against hope now. For instance, the Detroit Lions and Cleveland Browns will have recuperated from the devastating injuries that plagued their squads last year; the Washington Redskins can hope for redemption; the Dallas Cowboys can hope the Romo-Owens combination will really catch fire. Why, I bet fans of the Oakland Raiders are even dreaming of a season where they win six games.

It is a powerful thing, hope. For a football fan, hope is what gets you through the tough times, through the interminable losses, through the valleys that never seem to end. Hope is what keeps you coming back week after week. Hope is what keeps you putting on the hats and jerseys every Sunday. Hope is what keeps you watching in the fourth quarter when all seems lost but there's still a tiny chance of victory.

For it is not winning but losing that truly defines the football fan -- the inevitable losses to more powerful teams, the inexplicable losses to lesser teams, the post-season dreams dashed on a frozen December night. Losing -- and the pain and suffering and gnashing of teeth that goes along with it -- is a constant. It is the natural state of things. It pierces the heart and wounds the soul deeper than any icy wind. And for 31 of 32 teams this year, it will arrive again. It may arrive during the first frost in November or a storm in the bleak mid-winter, but it will arrive.

It will not, however, arrive for many more weeks. Now, the fields bask in the glow of the sun. Now, there is hope -- hope that this year will be the year. Whatever team you support* -- whether it's the Steelers or the Patriots or even the Falcons -- savor this time. Relish it. And believe!

------------------

* Well, unless you're a Philadelphia Eagles fan. In that case, God help you. Except He won't, because He has clearly cursed your wretched city like He cursed Egypt of old. That's what you get for booing Santa Claus.

An Ode to Joey Harrington

THIS EVENING, IT WAS ANNOUNCED that Michael Vick, the embattled Atlanta Falcons quarterback, has been ordered to stay away from the Falcons' training camp until the NFL has reviewed his situation. As this may well prove the first in a long series of unfortunate developments for Mr Vick, The Rant would like to salute the poor sap who will likely find himself in Mr Vick's place this season -- Joey Harrington, the hapless former starter for the Detroit Lions.

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Falcons Fans' Ode to Joey Harrington
(sung to the tune of Monty Python's "Henry Kissinger")

Joey Harrington --
you're a scary one,
with your passes incomplete;
badly do you fare,
land on your derriere,
when the pass rush can't be beat.
I know they say that you are just a mess,
and soft and weak and inept, but hey, you're under stress.

Joey Harrington -- you're a scary one,
but win some games this year!

Random Thoughts on a Monday

DEAR GOD, I COULD GO for a double-double right about now. That and one of those perfect orders of fresh-cut French fries and a nice soda. Unfortunately, the nearest In-N-Out Burger location is 2,681 miles away from my house.

Thus, it would take me roughly 40 hours of driving -- each way -- for me to get a No. 1 Combo from the In-N-Out Burger in Prescott, Ariz. Alternatively, I could fly to Sky Harbor in Phoenix, which would probably take about eight hours with connections and an extra hour's worth of driving around Phoenix -- again, each way -- to satisfy my fix. Some might suggest this would be inappropriate, given the financial expense and envrionmental costs related in making such a journey, but I do not agree. In this case, I think we can all agree the market would bear the costs; sadly, it is the time issue that makes it impractical.

So this got me to thinking. If I can't get to an In-N-Out Burger, there must somehow be a way to get an In-N-Out Burger to me. Some Westerners, taking pity on their Eastern brethren, have cleverly brought double-doubles aboard aircraft for delivery upon arrival. However, this solution is clearly imperfect, because a double-double must be served hot and right off the grill. Also, while there is talk the chain will soon expand, its plans only call for opening up shops in southern Utah next year.

The natural places for the chain's first Utah stores, to my mind, would be in St. George and Cedar City. The most-easterly store in Nevada is in Las Vegas; it opened in 1992. Unfortunately, depending on where the stores are located, this represents a pace of eastward expansion of 7.43 miles per year for a St. George location and 10.63 miles per year for a Cedar City location. Thus, the chain will reach Manchester sometime between February 2250 and December 2356. Although I have an Internal Reserve of Spite that should keep me alive for a downright amazing length of time, I find it doubtful that I'll make it to 2250, even with the amazing advances in medical technology we're seeing.

So clearly the only option is to somehow convince In-N-Out Burgers Inc. to make a reasonable expansion to the East Coast. To be sure, this would be a difficult operation. Since the company relies on all-fresh ingredients, even going so far as to set up its own meat-packing plant, it would have to replicate its operation from the ground up. It would also have to take care not to over-expand, as that has killed even popular chains, such as Krispy Kreme.

However, I came up with a really clever idea. As it happens, we have an abandoned meat-packing plant here in Manchester, which Tyson Foods Inc. shut down a while back. This would be a perfect place for In-N-Out Burger to set up an East Coast operation. We're only 90 minutes from Boston and four hours to New York, and New Hampshire has a great business and tax climate. As a former Los Angeles resident, I can assure the executives of In-N-Out Burgers Inc. that New Hampshire rules.

What's that? Well, OK, yes -- so the Tyson plant is already being redeveloped, and plans have already been drawn up for its new use and the land has already been sold. But surely those are just minor technical matters. I'm sure that were In-N-Out executives were to come in and say, "Hey, you know what? This would be a good home for a meat-packing plant," some sort of deal could be worked out. Plus, it would create a special Meatpacking District right here in Manchester -- and with actual meatpacking, no less! -- that would undoubtedly turn into a thriving residential and commercial district, thus satisfying the original redevelopment goals.

I mean, it's worth a shot, anyway. And if that plan isn't a good one, I'm sure the good people at In-N-Out Burgers Inc. could come up with their own plan. Quite frankly, I don't care what it takes. Does it mean filling in acres of wetlands? Delaying a housing project? Tearing down a school? Moving a freeway? Fine with me.

Please. I'm begging you. You can't get a decent fast-food burger here for love or money and I don't know how much longer I can hold out. Please, In-N-Out -- for the love of God, come back east!

***

FOR THE RECORD, this clever idea sure beats the hell of having the neighbor's teenaged son come over and mow the lawn.

A MAN WHOSE hay wagon recently caught on fire did what any American would do in such a situation: he drove around frantically looking for a hose to put out the fire. Unfortunately, the flaming hay wagon sparked several other fires as he drove around the countryside looking for aid. You have one guess as to where this took place.

THIS IS ALL WELL AND GOOD -- but why does Philadelphia's mayor have bodyguards?

THERE'S A COUNTRY SONG in this somewhere. Just a hunch.

***

IT'D BE A LOT EASIER to have some sympathy -- any sympathy, really -- for Tim Donaghy, the former NBA referee under investigation for allegedly being a crooked, dirty, mobbed-up louse, if the guy wasn't apparently such a douchebag of the highest degree. You've got to love any guy who tries to get his mail carrier cashiered.

***

THE MANCHESTER WOLVES, my city's minor-league arena football team, is in the playoffs. Hell yeah. On Saturday we beat the Albany Conquest, who despite their name make the French look like military geniuses. And this Saturday, if we beat the Florida Firecats, we should be golden for an opening home playoff game. Yeah.

Unfortunately, beating Florida will be tough. They're 11-4 for a reason and are a consistently powerful team. If we don't manage to pull it off, though, there's still hope -- we'll need Bakersfield to beat the (Fresno) Central Valley Coyotes and the Fort Wayne Fusion to knock off the Quad Cities Steamwheelers. Both these outcomes are well within the realm of probability and it would be VERY cool if we got at least one -- and perhaps more -- playoff games at home.

The ArenaCup championship game is being played this year in Bossier City, La., so I won't be able to travel to the game if Manchester makes it, but I'm hopeful it will be televised here.

***

A WHILE BACK, I was having dinner with Simon From Jersey at Palace of Asia in Lawrenceville, N.J., and among the topics of discussion that night was a key issue affecting Americans everywhere: the amazing difficulty people have in finding a consistently decent Indian lunch buffet.

To be sure, there are great Indian buffets out there. For instance, when I lived in Los Angeles, I frequently dined at Jaipur: Cuisine of India, which had a downright oustanding buffet day in and day out. Don't just take my word for it either. Jaipur, for those of you who are wondering, is on West Pico near that giant mall; you will not be disappointed if you try it!

Also, while I haven't had the lunch buffet at Palace of Asia, the dinners there are so outstanding that I must believe its lunch buffet is at least good and likely excellent. (Our dinner, for those who wonder, included naan, puri, chicken saagwala, lamb korma, beef vindaloo and bengan bhartha, an eggplant dish. Heavenly. And yes, they do beef -- which was a surprise but a welcome one).

Still, let's be blunt. It's tough finding a good Indian buffet. This is largely because many of the buffets are small, and only have a selection of perhaps six or seven dishes -- and arguably only four, when one leaves out the old standards like chicken tikka masala and tandoori chicken. Often times, one will encounter weak curries, and bread pakora, and vegetarian dishes that range from the grim to the godawful. Simon and I, for instance, both detest that one dish with cauliflower and peas served up in a particularly unappetizing sauce. We both agree there's nothing inherently wrong with the dish per se-- after all, other diners gladly eat it -- but we're just not fans of it.

I am proud to report, however, that I recently scored a jackpot with the lunch buffet at Palace of India, one of Manchester's two Indian restaurants. The standbys were there as always, but they excelled with the other dishes: saag paneer, mixed vegetable korma, vegetable pakoras, chicken curry and -- God be praised -- chicken vindaloo. The only down side was that it was lunch, and as such the vindaloo was not very vindaloo, i.e., painfully and fiery hot. But wow. 9.5 out of 10 for my repast two weeks ago.

***

SO FOOTBALL SEASON is almost here and I can't wait. Thinking about the upcoming season today, I was reminded of a conversation I had a while back that truly shows how American football has an ecumenical appeal. I had been dining out at Cafe Momo, a Nepalese -- yes, Nepalese -- restaurant here in Manchester.

My sinuses had been acting up and I figured the fiery Nepali cuisine would help clear things out. I had no idea. I ordered a bowl of the gundruk soup, a spicy dish made from cured mustard leaves. Holy Mother of God, I have never had anything so hot in my life. This statement, I would add, comes from a man who frequently eats jalapeno peppers and famously writhed about in pain after eating super-spicy chicken wings. I mean, it was scorchingly, utterly, completely hot; the type of heat that leaves you drenched in sweat and begging for water, but God! so good. So so so so good afterwards, when the spice buzz takes effect.

Anyway, as I was suffering through the initial stages, I noticed the waiter/maitre'd -- it is a very small restaurant -- was wearing a Green Bay Packers jacket. Fittingly too, as it was quite cold outside. This intrigued me, and I inquired as to how long he had been a Packers fan.

"Oh," he said, "My wife got this for me. You know who I really like? The Raiders."

I was taken aback for a moment. After all, my team (the Pittsburgh Steelers) and his team are traditional enemies, and there's a bit of bad blood stemming from our great rivalry in the Seventies. But still, when you're living in Patriots Nation, you tend to bond with fans from elsewhere who also root for teams other than New England. So we got to talking and had a great conversation about football and our triumphs and disappointments and where we hoped things would go in the future. Fantastic. I felt the restaurant feeling great not only from the food but the conversation, and who would have expected it?

***

WELL, THAT'S ALL for now. Keep an eye out this week for some site changes -- including the banner and the blogroll -- and as we get closer to September, expect more in the way of football blogging. I plan to spend a good portion of my Sundays down at my local sports bar, cheering on the Steelers (provided I can get one of the roughly 57 TVs there tuned into the game).

The Rant Announces Staff Appreciation Day

LOYAL RANT READERS have come, over the years, to learn a bit about how The Rant operates. For instance, Benjamin Kepple's Daily Rant Inc. is domiciled in Bermuda and has its main offices in Manchester, N.H. It is from our Manchester offices that the vast majority of the site's content production is done -- with chief writer Benjamin Kepple doing most of the reporting, commentary, and so on.

But many readers may have noticed that The Rant often relies on "on-the-ground" reporting from affiliated publications, such as the Financial Rant and The Sporting Rant. These reports are compiled from our crack staff of reporters and commentators located around the world. Here at The Rant, we think it's important to give credit to the men who make Benjamin Kepple's Daily Rant as good as it is.

So, as part of this year's Staff Appreciation Day, we'd like to introduce everyone to our reporting team. Speaking for everyone here at The Rant, I'd like to congratulate all our writers for all their hard work. Without their efforts, The Rant wouldn't be nearly as fun or enjoyable. So, thank you, gentlemen. And I'd also like to thank all of The Rant's readers, who have stuck with The Rant for more than five years now. It's been a joy and a pleasure working for you.

Sincerely,

Benjamin Kepple
CEO, Benjamin Kepple's Daily Rant Inc.
"Your Hometown Nostalgia Source"
Hamilton, Bermuda

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OUR STAFF:

Slamming the Trunk

IT'S ALWAYS SWELL when the tranquility of a nice Sunday afternoon is shattered through reading something so patently stupid it boggles the mind. Sadly, I myself experienced this just a short while ago when I discovered a silly and wretched commentary from Mrs Penelope Trunk, a business journalist who wrote an essay entitled, "It Doesn't Matter That Journalists Misquote Everyone." As Loyal Rant Readers might imagine, this essay sent my blood pressure through the roof and I spent a good ten minutes pacing around my living room in a state of intense agitation.

So what was it about Mrs Trunk's column, you ask, that got me in such a state? Well, there were two things in particular that annoyed me. The first was the column itself, which amazed me with its breezy stupidity. The second was that Mrs Trunk, who is a financial journalist in only the most generous sense of the phrase, has no business lecturing real reporters about how we go about our trade. For that matter, I doubt she has any business lecturing business people how to go about their work.

Before we get to the meat and potatoes of this thing, let's review Mrs Trunk's qualifications. According to her biography, she spent ten years as an executive in the software industry. This sounds impressive until you consider her work was in marketing. She then founded two companies, although the names and eventual disposition of those companies is unclear. Mrs Trunk was then able to parlay this -- and for this I give her credit -- into syndicated columnist work.

Mrs Trunk's column appears in more than 200 publications. This sounds impressive until you consider how much syndicated columnists get for each column they write (hint: it ain't much). She is also a careers columnist for The Boston Globe and Yahoo! Finance, and has written a book called "Brazen Careerist: The NEW Rules for Success." As Mrs Trunk's book is presently ranked No. 8,864 in terms of sales on amazon.com, I give Mrs Trunk credit for writing a book that people want to buy, as I approve heartily of writers making money. This does not, however, take away from the fact that her work is the business-journalism equivalent of soft-core pornography. Sure, it's fun to read and people like it, but it also doesn't require a lot of mental energy and it covers stuff that people intuitively know already.

Speaking of mental energy, I would invite readers to peruse Mrs Trunk's brief biography on The Huffington Post's Web site, where her essay appeared. Whether she wrote it herself, or allowed through her own inaction for it to appear as it does, she should be ashamed:

Penelope Trunk is that author of the book Brazen Careerist: The New Rules for Success (Warner Business 2007). She is a career columnist at The Boston Globe and Yahoo Finance. Her syndicated column has run in more than 200 publications. She writes a blog called Brazen Careerist that receives about 350,000 page view a month. Earlier, she was a software executive, and then she founded two companies. She has been through an IPO, an acquisition and a bankruptcy. Before that, she played professional beach volleyball.

Let's see -- one, two, three, four, five, SIX errors in seven sentences. Mrs Trunk is "the author," not "that author;" she is a careers columnist, not a "career" columnist with lifetime tenure; her syndicated column runs in more than 200 publications; and "page views" is the proper plural. Errors five and six involve comma placement; there should be a comma after "Warner Business" and arguably no comma after "executive." What's that? So the last two are quibbling matters. I don't care. Six errors in seven sentences, folks. This is not exactly a confidence booster here, particularly for someone who makes a living telling people how to win friends and influence people.

But I digress. Back to Mrs Trunk's column, the column that aggravated me so. The first few sentences rather annoyed me.

As a journalist I hear all the time from people in business that they are misquoted. And you know what? People need to get over that, and I'm going to tell you why.

Now, one might think this lede is actually sympathetic to journalists, particularly business journalists. But here's the thing. Journalists have an obligation to get their quotes right and their stories right, and to present what people say accurately. Sources shouldn't have to "get over" it if a reporter screws things up. Sources, who take time out of their day to help reporters on deadline, deserve better.

I'm certainly not going to deny people get misquoted in the press. This is because reporters are human and, from time to time, screw things up. However, there's a difference between "I didn't like the story the reporter wrote" and "the reporter screwed up what I said." It's sloppy for Mrs Trunk to breezily lump the two together. Sure, people sometimes tell others they got misquoted because they didn't like how the story turned out, and it's a useful face-saving measure. But if a reporter screws up in expressing the views a source has stated, the record needs to be corrected.

Mrs Trunk continues:

The reason that everyone thinks journalists misquote them is that the person who is writing is the one who gets to tell the story. No two people tell the same story. ...

Journalists who think they are telling "the truth" don't understand the truth. We each have our own truth. When you leave out details, you might leave out what is unimportant to you but very important to someone else, and things start feeling untrue to the person who wishes you included something else.

Recruiters, by the way, know this well. If I get fired from three jobs but I only report that during that period I taught dance lessons to toddlers, I am not lying. I am merely telling the part of the story that I want to tell. No one can tell every part of every story. The details are infinite. But in this case, the fact that I left off the details most important to the recruiter makes the recruiter feel like it's lying. But it's not. I'm telling my version of the story.

So everyone feels misquoted because people say 20 or 30 sentences for every one sentence that a journalist prints. It's always in the context of the journalist's story, not the speaker's story.

Here's my advice: If you do an interview with a journalist, don't expect the journalist to be there to tell your story. The journalist gets paid to tell her own stories which you might or might not be a part of. And journalists, don't be so arrogant to think you are not "one of those" who misquotes everyone. Because that is to say that your story is the right story. But it's not. We each have a story. And whether or not someone actually said what you said they said, they will probably still feel misquoted.

How Mrs Trunk got to write a column on anything is absolutely amazing.

One barely knows where to start in condemning this milquetoast, limp-wristed wreck of a column, so we'll start with the idea of objective truth.

Although it is fashionable these days for people to claim that truth is relative, this collegiate idiocy does not tend to stand up in the business world, where numbers are numbers and facts are facts. If I report that Company X has paid $Y for Building Z, then I'm putting it out there as the truth. Either I'm right -- and I nearly always am -- or I screwed up and I'm wrong. If Company A lays off B number of employees and does so for reason C, and tells me as such, there's the truth right there.

So the truth here isn't all that difficult to understand. It is in fact out there. It's not all that difficult to report. So for a glorified marketing consultant to tell me that truth is relative is downright ridiculous.

It's also downright ridiculous for Mrs Trunk to suggest, as she does, that selective recall somehow allows one to present "the truth" when it does not paint a complete picture of a situation. Lying through omitting crucial details is still lying, whether Mrs Trunk wants to admit it or not. If a reporter wrote a story about a business deal, and purposely left out crucial details so that Situation A was presented as reality when it was in fact Situation B, then the reporter has committed a fraud upon his readers.

What really gets me, though, is that Mrs Trunk -- despite existing at the margins of journalism -- has the audacity to tell others in her field they ought not arrogantly assume they don't misquote sources. Leaving out instances of human error, real reporters who deal with real business matters work very diligently to make sure they get the story right. For this dilletante to suggest otherwise is brash and insulting.

The real frustrating thing about Mrs Trunk's column is that it again reinforces the idea that journalists are hopelessly biased and spend hours each day trying to think up ways to screw the God-fearing American public. Consider, over at Dean's World, writer Dave Price's reaction:

Sadly, such notions of rigorous intellectual honesty and absolute truth don't even rate lip service from our media, thanks to attitudes like this. Instead of being a reliable source of objective, factual news, the media forces anyone seeking truth to de-filter the narrator's bias from every "story" -- often with extremely troubling consequences.

See what I mean? Journalists have enough problems without people like Mrs Trunk making things worse. Then, there's Mr Esmay's comment to Mr Price's response. Mr Esmay writes:

The most obnoxious example of this sort of press behavior is the "reports" they give on poll results. Newspapers are especially notorious about this: instead of printing the questions exactly as they were asked, and then just giving the numbers, they "interpret" the poll for you. That's where bogus things like "most Americans believed Saddam was behind 9/11" bullshit stories came from, just for example.

As someone who has written a few "poll" or "report" stories in his day, I've always worked to summarize the poll or report as opposed to interpreting it. It's just data, after all, and the readers are more than capable of intrepreting the data themselves. The important things to summarize are the poll results, its methodology, its margin of error -- and of course, where the readers can find a copy of the whole thing if they're interested in learning more. That's not to say there's no place for intrepretation -- after all, the data may show trends and those trends are worth reporting -- but again, data is data. There's only so much reading of the tea leaves one can do, and if reporters must go all out looking for deeper meaning, they should get other sources to do the interpreting.

Terrell Owens Demands Vick Suspension

By FLIP ARGENTI
The Sporting Rant

DALLAS -- Dallas Cowboys wide receiver Terrell Owens yesterday called for the NFL to immediately suspend embattled Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick, charging the allegations surrounding Vick's federal indictment were "cruel, callous, and most importantly, taking the media's focus away from me."

Owens, whose ability to score touchdowns in the second-tier National Football Conference is only matched by his ability to drop crucial passes in games, called a press conference to discuss the matter outside Texas Stadium. Owens declared he was "completely disgusted" with media coverage of the Vick affair, saying "it was all he had seen on shows like NFL Live" and that he wanted things to change quickly.

"You know, it's only a week before training camp starts and I haven't heard a goddamn word about all the stunts I'm expecting to pull during the regular season, much less the pre-season," said a visibly annoyed Owens. "Why, in the first few weeks alone, I'm planning to miss key team meetings, openly complain about Wade Phillips, get in Tony Romo's face for not passing me the ball all the time, and drop at least four key passes during pre-season matchups. But has anyone so much mentioned my name in the past two weeks? Hell, no!"

"Also, I'm going to throw a cup of Gatorade at Jason Garrett when he's not looking, in revenge for some imagined petty slight. But have you heard anything about that? Let's see -- no, of course not. Hell, I even sent (agent Drew) Rosenhaus over to scream at Jerry Jones and it didn't even get so much as a write-up in the Dallas Morning News."

"They're not even here, are they?" Owens said, as he looked out over the assembled media, which consisted of one reporter and three bored-looking interns half-heartedly taking notes. "This is ridiculous."

During the remainder of the press conference, Owens said he was considering working Vick's situation into his famous post-touchdown celebrations, including walking a football on a leash, pretending to shoot the football for poor performance, and pulling a Vick jersey out of his helmet and stomping on it.

News of Owens' complaints did not impress other teams in the National Football Conference, most notably the Falcons, which called Owens' press conference "particularly unfortunate."

"It's rather sad, and actually a bit pathetic, when a player from another team would so brazenly try to capitalize on an unfortunate and disappointing situation involving an Atlanta Falcon," said a Falcons front-office official, speaking on condition of anonymity. "Besides, isn't it about time for the man to retire? He's been in the league for more than ten years now and still hasn't managed to figure out basic concepts like teamwork."

Nor did Owens find much sympathy from teams in the superior American Football Conference, which dismissed Owens' remarks as "an outburst typical of a washed-up, mediocre player" who would be severely tested were he to actually play against a decent AFC team.

"Please," said Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver Chad Johnson, when informed of Owens' remarks. "I'm in the same situation and you don't see Ocho Cinco complaining. I do my talking on the field, where it earns me ever-increasing fines from the league office and opprobrium from fans of other teams."

"Just wait 'til you see what I have planned for our first game against Cleveland," Johnson added.

Over-Under for Falcons-Bengals Game Set at 15

By FLIP ARGENTI
The Sporting Rant

ATLANTA -- Professional odds-makers have set the "over-under" for the Pre-Season Week 3 game between the Atlanta Falcons and Cincinnati Bengals at 15, citing rumors the legal troubles now faced by the teams' players could "just be the tip of the iceberg."

"With 10 Bengals players arrested in the last 14 months, and Falcons quarterback Michael Vick getting indicted last week, it seems almost certain the teams will face more legal problems as time goes on," said odds-maker Tim "Timmy the Greek" Konstantinos. "Two things seem pretty clear. First, both squads aren't comprised of the brightest bulbs in the lamp store, and second, neither team has any idea how to handle its morally-compromised players. So we're initially setting the over-under line for the game at 15, representing the number of players arrested, indicted, facing suspension or otherwise having engaged in immoral acts as of game time."

"This seems likely given the expanded roster both teams will be fielding, plus the seemingly limitless capacity for the teams' players to get into trouble," Konstantinos said. "I mean, it doesn't take much -- a disorderly conduct charge here, a fight or two there, and before you know it half the squad will require permission to travel out of state. You really can't underestimate the proficiency of either team."

Fellow odds-makers shared Konstantinos' assessment.

"Fifteen seems like a reasonable number to me," said Edward "Teddy the Sharp" O'Callahan, an odds-maker and sports consultant based in Nevada. "Clearly these teams have all the right stuff to get close to that limit without too much trouble, and they could easily surpass it given the stress involved with training camp and the pre-season."

Officials with the NFL declined comment on the matter, although they privately noted that other teams in the league have considerably lower numbers. For instance, Konstantinos has set the over-under for the Hall of Fame Game, between the Pittsburgh Steelers and New Orleans Saints, at 1/2.

The Culling of the Books

IN A SHOCK MOVE, I've decided that I'm going to cull my extensive collection of books. No, really. I'm going to go through the whole collection and sell the ones I no longer want or need. Stop laughing -- I'm not kidding.

As Loyal Rant Readers know, I am a bit of a book enthusiast, to the point where I deliberately avoid shopping at bookstores because I know that if I enter a bookstore, I will inevitably end up buying several books. Over the years, this bibilophilia has caused me to amass hundreds of books. Most of these are at home in Ohio, on the shelves and in the closet of my bedroom there, but I also have several hundred books in my apartment. Many of these are located in the back bedroom that I never use, and many are in a giant banker's box. While I wouldn't say the state of affairs is patently ridiculous, I would say it's about time to cull the herd before things get out of hand. Books, at least in my life, are kind of like dry-cleaning hangers -- they tend to multiply when I'm not looking and next thing I know I've got bunches all over the place.

Some readers, I know, will remain skeptical of this announcement until I actually go through with it, but I think this time I am really and truly serious. The only question remains: what the devil do I do with all of them?

Now I know I'm damn well NOT going to get rid of my books on business, finance, economics or economic history. Those are important to my work and are thus indispensable. I mean, I've got records of commodities prices going back four thousand years in some of these volumes. Sure, it's entirely possible -- in fact, rather probable -- that I'll never need to draw upon the fluctuating price for grain in ancient Babylonia or commodity prices in ancient Greece, but that's not the point. The point is that I will have the knowledge handy if and when I need it. Why, in 50 years, when I have grandchildren going on about this or that, I'll be able to pull out that knowledge in a jiffy:

That's right, son. 100 drachmas to the mina and 60 minae to the talent. Owned. Besides, as my collection in that arena grows, it will hopefully become at least semi-valuable and sought after, leading to a nice tax deduction for my estate in 70 or 80 years.

I am also not getting rid of my precious history boxed sets, either. Oh, no. The Decline and Fall stays. So does Runciman's three-volume History of the Crusades. The three-volume Klemperer diaries? Mine forever. The seminal history works stay too. Commager & Morris' The Spirit of Seventy-Six stays on my shelves until the end of time.

So what do I plan to scrap, you ask? Well, I have a bunch of books on political science that I haven't read in a while and don't have any interest in reading further, so those will probably go. I have some old travel volumes I no longer need and I bet I can get rid of those cheap. But perhaps the most culling will be done from my paperback collection, where I'll get rid of the science fiction novels and other mind candy that once brought me lots of enjoyment, but are now being wasted just sitting there.

Of course, therein lies the question: how do I get rid of these while still recapturing the little value they have? The hard-covers won't be too much of a challenge -- those I can sell to clever shops like these and I should be able to get five or ten cents on the dollar. But the paperbacks are another matter. Paperbacks are cheap and have practically no value at all, and I would be inclined to sell them at fire sale prices (10 cents to 50 cents per book) if only I could find a buyer. The trouble is that I need cash in exchange; store credit doesn't do me much good, because I'm trying to get rid of the books, not get new ones that will start filling my shelves again.

Simply put, I want to be a paperback seller, but I haven't the foggiest idea of how to go about selling the books, even for next to nothing. Paying for shipping doesn't make much sense either, so that kind of rules out eBay and all the other on-line marketplaces. A yard sale doesn't work either, because I don't have a yard. Oh, well. I'm sure I'll think of something. I'll have plenty of time to think while I'm going through the stacks.

On a related note, I'm going to take this opportunity to post what is perhaps my favorite modern poem, from the poet Clive James.

---------------

The Book of My Enemy Has Been Remaindered

The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I am pleased.
In vast quantities it has been remaindered
Like a van-load of counterfeit that has been seized
And sits in piles in a police warehouse,
My enemy's much-prized effort sits in piles
In the kind of bookshop where remaindering occurs.
Great, square stacks of rejected books and, between them, aisles
One passes down reflecting on life's vanities,
Pausing to remember all those thoughtful reviews
Lavished to no avail upon one's enemy's book --
For behold, here is that book
Among these ranks and banks of duds,
These ponderous and seeminly irreducible cairns
Of complete stiffs.

Soon now a book of mine could be remaindered also,
Though not to the monumental extent
In which the chastisement of remaindering has been meted out
To the book of my enemy,
Since in the case of my own book it will be due
To a miscalculated print run, a marketing error--
Nothing to do with merit.
But just supposing that such an event should hold
Some slight element of sadness, it will be offset
By the memory of this sweet moment.
Chill the champagne and polish the crystal goblets!
The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I am glad.

Why People Hate Sport Utility Vehicles

AS I UNDERSTAND IT, there's been a lot of talk recently about some guy in Washington, D.C., who had his Hummer sport-utility vehicle vandalized while parked on the street. The story got major play in The Washington Post, because owner Gareth Groves, 32, had the $38,000 SUV for all of five days before two masked men broke every window, slashed the tires, and dug the message "FOR THE ENVIRON" into the body. Thus far, the response from the nation has ranged from outrage to a feeling that, although it shouldn't have happened, Mr Groves kinda got what he deserved.

I can understand the first response but not the second.

After all, as Vincent Vega famously put it in "Pulp Fiction," you don't fuck with another man's automobile. That Mr Vega was a hit man only goes to show how deep a crime this is against conventional morality. Like Mr Vega, I too share a sense of outrage against the anti-social hellions who would do something so beastly as to damage someone else's automobile. I personally believe that car vandals should face punishment so severe it would give a judge in Singapore pause.

That said, though, I don't understand why people believe Mr Groves, through his choice in vehicle, somehow invited the crime against himself. After all, how is that their business what kind of car Mr Groves drives? It's his money and his life and he has a right, under our glorious capitalist system, to purchase whatever type of car he wishes. If that is a $38,000 Hummer H2 or a $10,000 Ford Focus, that is his decision and his decision alone.

This is not to say I consider Mr Groves the brightest bulb in the lamp store. For one thing, Mr Groves paid $38,000 for a constantly depreciating asset, which is not generally a recipe for financial success. For another, Mr Groves paid $38,000 for a vehicle when he was 32 years old, when a good chunk of that money could have been invested instead. This would, in time, have allowed him to buy several sport-utility vehicles of his choice. This also suggests Mr Groves is a bit dim. For a third, it's worth noting that Mr Groves still lives with his mother. As such, spending $38,000 on a car is ridiculous.

Also, in the photo of Mr Groves, it appears he is wearing a San Diego Chargers away jersey. Still, even though Mr Groves' recent auto purchase might have made him the Marty Schottenheimer of the car-buying public, that doesn't mean the man deserved to get his car wrecked.

I do think I understand why people generally detest sport-utility vehicles, though, and I don't think it has much to do with the environment. Rather, it has to do with driving conditions.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I should note that I drive a Ford Taurus sedan. I have always driven a Ford Taurus sedan (or similar) and I will probably do so for a long time to come. This is because I like sedans. I am a sedan person. Sedans, to my mind, are practical, understated and elegant. For their drivers, they offer up an aura of smart sophistication that shows others the sedan's owner is an intelligent yet grounded sort, confident in his own image and ability. Plus, they're relatively easy to park.

On the other hand, consider how SUV drivers are viewed. Everyone has driven down the freeway at one point or another and found themselves at the mercy of an incompetent SUV driver breathing down one's neck, even though one is going well over the speed limit. This incompetence, combined with a lack of respect for the machine they're driving and a lack of respect for others on the road, annoys drivers of more traditional vehicles. People tend to get a lot more annoyed about others' driving habits when others are driving vehicles considerably larger than their own, and that's generally because people are well aware of the laws of physics. An incompetent driver operating a Kia Spectra is considerably less dangerous than an incompetent driving a Cadillac Escalade.

I would suggest this is what lies behind most of the animus directed against sport-utility vehicles, and not concerns over the environment. The environment is just a secondary focus. It may amplify the hatred but it does not cause it.

Still, the amount of hatred directed at SUV drivers does surprise me. After all, plenty of SUV drivers have perfectly good reason for owning their vehicles -- they may live in a rural area, or need to haul stuff, or what have you. Plus, our glorious capitalist system has a way of balancing things out. Look how many SUV drivers are now driving less because gasoline prices are so high. The way I see it, there's no need to vandalize SUVs or berate their drivers -- just chuckle softly when you see them filling up at the gas station!

Uhhhhhhhhhhh ...

SO I HAD A GREAT POST up about Bear Stearns' hedge-fund collapse and all that. Note the word "had." About the same time my blog's server went through a