Quote of the Day

"Cell phones are the new yawn."

--Chuck Calabreze

from The Devil's New Dictionary

Dawn, n., That singular moment when one has forgotten yesterday's miseries and has yet to encounter today's.

from The Devil's New Dictionary

Funeral, n., A solemn gathering that signals the end of a life and the beginning of a potluck.

U.S. News

Left, family members of Associate Justice Sonia Sotomayor disrupt court proceedings. Below, other family members rest after day spent frolicking in reflecting pool.


CONCERNS RAISED OVER SUPREME COURT JUSTICE SONIA SOTOMAYOR’S BEHAVIOR
“We Told You So!” Say Conservative Critics of First Latina Justice

(AP)—Just two months into her tenure at the Supreme Court, Associate Justice Sonia Sotomayor has already raised alarms among at least two of her fellow justices. Chief Justice John Roberts reported today that he has fielded “numerous complaints” about Justice Sotomayor’s behavior from Justices Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas. Roberts is reportedly investigating those complaints, as well as reports from Supreme Court staff members and parking attendants.

The most recent incident apparently occurred last Thursday, October 7, when Associate Justice Sotomayor reportedly “slept in,” arriving shortly before noon with a dozen of her extended family members, many of them half-asleep, in tow. They proceeded to climb on the furniture and “muck up” Sotomayor’s already cluttered office. Speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, the Sotomayor clan kept up “a non-stop babbling” that upset proceedings in the chambers.

When staff members returned from lunch, they reported seeing Sotomayor’s rusted Plymouth Bonneville parked next to the wading pool with all the doors open, blasting “some kind of Spanish music.” Family members had spread out a picnic on the concrete apron around the pool and, ignoring the “no swimming or wading” signs, several family members were frolicking in the pool itself.

Finally, Justice Sotomayor showed up for the afternoon session with a forty of Colt 45 in a paper bag. Swigging to punctuate her remarks, she then proceeded to launch her minority opinion from the back row. Head bobbing and one hand on her hip, she shouted, “Whachu mean, Mr. Big Justicio? Que lastima! It hurts my corazon cuando you talk like that, ese. You know whachu you can do? You can take your majority opinion and shove it up your blanco ass, senor!”

Justice Antonin Scalia, author of the majority opinion, stormed from the chambers, calling Sotomayor’s behavior “entirely inappropriate.” Witnesses say Justice Sotomayor followed Scalia to his car, shouting over and over, “Eeee, you’re one tough hombre!” Later, she joined her family in the wading pool, performing an impromptu poolside mambo in her dripping robes.

Reached for comment on Friday, a still-impassioned Justice Sotomayor said, “What tha fock? You can’t have a little fun in this town?”

NEWS ROUNDUP: SENATOR EDWARD KENNEDY

John Fitzgerald Kennedy (left rear) with unidentified Kennedy family member (right front)

SENATOR TED KENNEDY SHOWS UP FOR SENATE VOTE DESPITE HIS RECENT DEATH

Meanwhile, His Autobiography, A Legacy of Doggedness, Rockets to Number 3,473,567 on Amazon

Hyannis Port, MA--Ted Kennedy, the most boring of the Kennedy brothers, died yesterday after a somber withering away that took several months. It was a fitting end for the man who kept showing up for work long after his more fabulous brothers and several fabulous nephews were struck down in the primes of their fabulous lives. Asked to reflect on his 46 years in the Senate, Kennedy was direct. “I wish I’d died in a fiery crash or at the hands of a lunatic assassin,” he said. “Then I’d be a hero instead of this old bloviator growing thicker and paler behind a conference table.” Kennedy voted “yes” today, the day after his death, on a bill he co-sponsored, authorizing Congress to levy and collect fines on overdue books held by public library patrons who make in excess of $250,000 per year.

Kennedy had several shots at an early, tragic death, but managed to survive a late night swim in a Chappaquiddick Island reservoir, a ski jump in Wyoming, a saddle bronc ride in Montana, a 1964 plane crash, and a night of heavy drinking in Palm Beach. Many believe he’d have been a more effective legislator had he died young and tragically. “It’s clear,” said Charles Bowden, Professor of Twentieth Century American History at Georgetown University, “that both John and Robert had a greater influence on politics from beyond the grave than Ted had from his seat in congress.” President Barack Obama agreed. “It’s always good to have Ted around, but JFK got me elected.”

Ted Kennedy’s autobiography, A Legacy of Doggedness, has failed to capture the public’s imagination, and the movie “inspired” by the book, starring the late Tim Conway as Ted Kennedy, was dubbed My Dinner Without Andre by Elvis Mitchell, the Times’ film critic. “Imagine that film,” Mitchell wrote, “without Andre–and, well, without dinner—and you have The Ted Kennedy Story.” Last minute attempts to “spice up the movie” with Ted, his son Patrick, and nephew William, jogging along Palm Beach “Baywatch” style failed to excite moviegoers. After a brief run in suburban Massachusetts’ theaters, the film went straight to DVD.

In Massachusetts, Governor Deval Patrick declared September 1^st Ted Kennedy Day and asked that citizens celebrate by “relentlessly plodding through their dreary, insignificant lives.” Those who felt ambitious and wanted to celebrate the day were invited to appear on C-SPAN to explain the workings of some unpopular, unsexy piece of arcane legislature to an audience of the apathetic and the hearing-challenged. Plans for an annual parade were sent to committee for further study.

ENTERTAINMENT NEWS

Left: Former Michael Jackson manager Tom Mandible with his dog, Jacko, in his office "adjacent to" Rodeo Drive

REBUFFED JACKSON MANAGER: “I TOLD YOU SO”
Tom Mandible Advised Jackson to Die in Yearly Business Plans as Early as 2002

Los Angeles--Citing the 100 million dollars in revenue, the 100 million dollar movie deal, and pending deals for books, CDs, and novelty items--all since Jackson’s heart attack 48 days ago--former Michael Jackson manager Tom Mandible stood at Jackson’s grave Wednesday and said quietly, “I told you so.”

In business plans presented to the popular singer over the last ten years, Mandible had “strongly suggested” that, rather than tour or make a new CD, the singer should simply die. “Look at Elvis, I told him. Sure he sold some records when he was alive, but after he collapsed on his throne, the king was absolutely golden.” But, year after fiscally disastrous year, Jackson “scoffed” at Mandible’s proposal.

“The business model is solid. It starts with Jesus Christ,” Mandible said while he huddled in a Rodeo Drive doorway and dismantled a pack of crumbled cheese-flavored crackers. “You think anyone’s talking about Jesus this and Jesus that, the light of the world, all that, if he doesn’t die on the cross? You think he’s got any marketing legs if he lives to 85 and dies in a rest home on the shores of the Red Sea crocheting shrouds or whatever? No. Death sells. Early death sells absolutely. Write it down.”

Mandible, homeless since Jackson fired him in 2006, wears a single rhinestone-studded glove, in honor of the late singer. “No hard feelings,” he says. “It’s just . . . I wish he’d listened. I could have made a difference.”

When asked about Mandible’s claims, Jermaine Jackson, spokesman for the Jackson estate, was contrite. “Tom’s correct,” he said. “Michael considered the Death Option many times. He took it seriously. We discussed it, but it just seemed too drastic. It’s a big step. You can’t go with the Death Option and then say, ‘OK, that didn’t work. What do you want to do next? The Resurrection Option?’ I mean, that worked once, but what’d Christ have? Like, one book, right? We wanted something sustainable.”

Meanwhile other washed-up singers and actors, watching Jackson’s sales figures, have been seeking out Mandible’s advice. Tom Fogerty, a founding member, with his more talented brother John, of Creedence Clearwater Revival, is among those who have called. “Rather than do the casino tour, maybe this death thing will work for us,” said Fogerty. Fogerty has been on the casino circuit with his new band, Creedence Cleardaughter Revival, a band which features Fogerty’s daughter, Clamidia, singing the songs Tom's more talented brother John made famous.

Mandible is quick to point out that the “Death Option” only works for a handful. “Dylan,” he said. “Dylan should die. A few others. Madonna, of course. I’d advise Madonna to pursue the Death Option – after a steep decline in creativity and sales, of course. But I’d advise her to stop working out and to begin eating poorly right now, maybe begin popping some pills or whatever, to facilitate her sudden tragic end.”

Meanwhile, in London, surviving members of Cream have postponed a reunion tour while Eric Clapton considers the “Death Option.” “Clapton,” said Mandible, pulling his sleeping bag closer against the evening chill, “Clapton I would consider. It’s a risk, but he should call me. We should talk.”

Quote of the Day

"Poetry doesn't explain the world; it unexplains it."

--Chuck Calabreze, Future Poet Laureate

U.S. News

FOUNDER OF "CHUCKISMO" PREDICTS MOVEMENT WILL SWEEP THROUGH POETRY ESTABLISHMENT "LIKE A CLOUD OF SMOKE FROM A DUMP FIRE"
Noxious, Depressing Poetry Movement Threatens to Obscure Hard-Won Clarity of Dominant "New Statesmanism"

Santa Fe--He looks like an aging biker who lost his way (and, apparently, his Harley) somewhere between Barstow and Vegas. Dressed in faded, baggy cargo pants, a T-Shirt emblazoned with a skull and crossbones and a slogan--"Write to Live, Live to Write"--wraparound sunglasses and a flame-emblazoned do-rag, Chuck Calabreze could not look less like Dana Gioia, the man Chuck Calabreze says is destroying American literature.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Calabreze croaks in a voice half-Tom Waits and half-Hermoine Gingold. "Let's invigorate American literature by performing Shakespeare's plays on U.S. military bases!" Calabreze pauses, then after a moment of muddled silence, during which he appears genuinely puzzled by virtually everything, he starts up again. "Wait. I know. Let's have a contest to see who can recite 'Charge of the Light Brigade' best!"

In Chuck Calabreze's alternate universe, he's making plans for when he gains control of the reins of state. "You know," he says, his arms flailing, then settling--both of them--atop his do-ragged head, "the reciting thing ain't half bad. But." In a typical radically-enjambed Calabreze moment, a long silence--a Robert Creeley-style line break-- follows the "but." "But," he finally begins again, eyes skyward now, as if the poetry grail is being revealed to him above the nearby mall, "but, I think it'd be cute to see sixth graders reciting Charles Bukowski poems. That's it. A nation of sixth graders reciting Bukowski! Now that's building good citizenship!"

In the unlikely event that Chuck Calabreze ever achieves power in the U.S. poetry world, the dress code would have to change. "Yeah," I can't see myself in the blue suit and red tie power-dressing mode," Mr. Calabreze says. He lifts one foot off the ground and pulls his pants leg up to reveal a battered, unlaced Doc Martin. "They'll want me to tie these things, huh?" he says, swatting at the loose laces. "That," he says, pointing bootward, his voice climbing several registers, "is a bad example for the children, Mr. Calabreze."

"My next book," Calabreze says, "is going to be about farm implements and Christmas pageants. It'll be a celebration of xenophobic life in small-town America. I'd pre-order on Amazon right now, if I were you." He pauses to swat at an imaginary fly. "Some people will say I'm pandering to the lowest common denominator." He trails off, seemingly spent, then suddenly re-inflated, bellows, "But I prefer to think of it as my Trojan horse."

The image of Mr. Calabreze emerging from that Trojan horse at the center of government in Washington, DC, sends chills through many poets, Mr. Gioia included. "Mr. Calabreze represents the worst anti-social traits associated with poets," Mr. Gioia said over coffee and croissants at the Nancy Hanks Center. "He dresses poorly, smells rank, and has sub-par dentition. He's a throwback to the fifties when the Beats and their fellow street poets--all of whom I've been diplomatic about in my public pronouncements and my writings, I might add--felt obliged to rub ordinary Americans' faces in their ordinariness. Do I think a Calabreze laureateship would be good for American poetry? In a word: no."

But the ground is swelling for just such an appointment. Followers of Chuckismo, a poetry movement founded by Mr. Calabreze, have approached all of the major presidential candidates with petitions--and complimentary T-shirts--encouraging the appointment of Chuck Calabreze to the position of Poet Laureate. Some observers report that Hillary Clinton was spotted wearing the Chuckismo T-shirt during a recent campaign stop in Rapid City.

Aware of the campaign, Gioia is resigned. "All the work I've done," he laments, "convincing people that poets are reasonable, well-groomed, patriotic citizens with neither firm convictions nor axes to grind, will evaporate the minute Mr. Calabreze ascends the dais."

Mr. Calabreze, informed of Gioia’s concerns, fell into a long, troubled silence. “What,” he finally said, “is a dais?”

Chuck Calabreze on Relationships

THE MOONS OF MARRIAGE

Honeymoon
Moon of Sex in the Kitchen
Moon of Weekend Getaways
Moon of the Occasional Burnt Meal
Moon of Excessive Spending
Moon of Guys’ Nights Out
Moon of Not Calling Home
Moon of Gals’ Nights Out
Moon of Parallel Reading
Moon of Deferred Maintenance
Moon of Really Talking
Moon of Self–Help Books
Moon of Nobody Changes
Moon of Long Silences

Quote of the Day: On Contemporary Theory

If the statement “nothing’s true” is true, then the statement “nothing’s true” is false.

--Chuck Calabreze