We’re only one day into the Barack Obama presidency, and it’s turning even the blackest hearts to lush, read ones. (Is this how it works? Maybe the small heart gets bigger, like with the Grinch.) Even the posters on Domelights, a notoriously whiny bunch, have been pretty upbeat about the inauguration. There’s still plenty of sniping at each other — one poster calls another an “idiotic coward” — but not too much toward Obama, and nothing too stupid. (This is subject to change.)
But I did come across this new, great argument:
Man, Bush has dealt with more than the last three President’s combined! Two wars, Hurricane Katrina, Terrorism, the Economy! Hopefully no other President has to deal with as much as him, he had no breaks! So, with everything he dealt with he didn’t do too bad of a job in my point of view!
Don’t know if this is a joke, but I’m really hoping it’s not.
Look, I’m excited about the Eagles. Very excited. But right now I cannot — cannot — stop laughing at the thought of a thousand angry Eagles fans cursing John Bolaris’ name when he suddenly appeared on the screen as the Eagles were about to beat the Giants and head to the NFC Championship. Then, it happened again, with ads for Verizon and Progressive Insurance.
All in all, not the best weekend for Bolaris. There’s this, and Saturday’s storm that failed to materialize, making the promo that interrupted the game about 100 times funnier. I’d stay inside for the next couple days if I were Bolaris.
I have to say, this is the best flier for a party I’ve ever seen. The media advisory is also pretty smokin’ (emphasis mine):
CollegeMansion.com, the fastest growing college lifestyle destination, will host eight parties throughout the next two months to find Philadelphia’s 52 hottest girls. These exclusive parties will be held at the trendiest bars in the city. Ladies from the Greater Philadelphia area will be selected to participate in an active voting contest to determine Philly’s hottest 52 girls. Once chosen, the final 52 girls will be invited to an exclusive photo shoot party and the first ever Official Philly 52 deck of Playing Cards will be distributed to the hottest bars, restaurants and retail stores in the area.
I believe this jawn is for for the kind of people on Party Monsters: Cabo, no? Anyway, if you need to find me Friday, you know where to go.
Update: A friend writes in: “Did you really write ‘jawn’??? I am disappointed.” Apologies, but I felt it fitting for the party. First time I’ve used it since seventh grade or so, when it was probably every third word I said.
I am not entirely convinced it is real. I now share my thoughts with you.
THERE WAS a time when Philadelphia was among the great cities, full of charm and class.
And that time was: 1640. I have on my desk the text of a letter to the editor to the Public Ledger in 1850 complaining about residents from other cities bashing Philadelphia (specifically, calling it “The Murder City”). As you can see, nothing is different in Philadelphia now.
Growing up, I thought I lived in a terrific city with endless possibilities, and I couldn’t wait to grow up and raise a family here. Ten years later, the only thing I can’t wait to do is leave this wretched city.
Ten years? Seriously, nothing major happened from 1998-2008 that seriously made the city worse, unless you count the election of John Street. Which, eh, isn’t really a reason to leave Philadelphia and certainly didn’t make this city any more wretched.
Every day, I read philly.com to see who was killed, robbed or victimized by the shameless criminals who find solace in harming others. I then move on to see what new budget cut is under way and think of all the dropouts and criminals that will emerge as a result.
Ohhh, so that’s you in the comments!
I wonder, though: How bad can it possibly be when the most horrible thing that’s happened to you so far is “My Philly.com experience was not as good as it could have been, because all the news I specifically searched out was kinda sad.”
So far, so good. Typical media-influenced exaggeration of crime in a big American city. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the attention paid to root causes. (Uhh, what Philly.com reader cares about that?) Here’s where I start to think the letter is fake:
Paranoia sets in, and I frantically lock all my doors and windows, double-check the alarm and read online for new ways to protect against thieves. Instead of looking my best, I opt for a style that says “bargain” as opposed to designer labels, as not to propagate the idea that I can provide a “come up” for the next man.
I must leave Philadelphia because I cannot dress well enough!
I really need to find out the URL of that Lifehacker-type blog that’s about thief protection. Man, one can scarcely count the recent innovations in that field!
I find myself running to the car, to the house, in and out of stores, constantly looking around me. What has this city become if this is what its residents have to do to feel safe?
No one’s saying this city is Lovely Fun Time Paradise, a place I just made up. But as long as you’re relatively not stupid, you can stroll along the streets of even the toughest neighborhood without being disturbed. (And where exactly does this person live? Not West Kensington, I bet.)
Why should I have to limit my outside activity in fear of falling victim to the evils of the streets? Instead of saying, “Hi” to strangers in passing, I look at them, as well as my neighbors, with the same distrustful and cautious eye. Where is the brotherly love or sisterly affection in any of these actions?
How, exactly, is it the fault of Philadelphia or of criminals that this person is rude to her neighbors and strangers? Look, I don’t really greet strangers on the street — I’m sure I’d hate them — but somehow the level of violence in Philadelphia does not prevent me from saying hello to the people in my building or the man with the martini glass who sits out front of Louis Kahn’s house or the nice old woman who lives next to my parents in the Northeast or even the guy on the other side of my parents rowhome because none of them are out to harm me and I can’t believe I’m even arguing with this stupid letter to the editor on this hypercritical Philadelphia blog.
As I read about all of the Philadelphia music greats, I imagine what it was like during the days of Philadelphia International that my uncle, songwriter Allan Felder, loved so much. I wonder what it was like to live here when artistry and love existed.
Allan Felder? Really? Didn’t he write a ton of disco songs? Anyway, man, sometimes I imagine what it was like when my uncle — who once entered (and maybe won?) a John Kruk lookalike contest — lived in Philadelphia.
Philadelphia International Records was founded in 1971. Coincidentally, Frank Rizzo was elected mayor that year. WHAT A TIME OF LOVE IT WAS IN PHILADELPHIA!
As hard as I try, I can’t imagine this city, laden with crime, poverty, despair and negativity, ever being a city of hope or love. I’m not sure where the great Philadelphia went, but I am sure that when I’m done my doctorate, I’ll be looking for a better life, away from this Philadelphia.
And here is the exciting conclusion, where we find out that our writer is going for her doctorate. And, after bashing the city for several paragraphs, complains about the negativity. There is absolutely no way this letter is real. None. This is faker than a 100 million Northeast Times letters.
“We figured out what happens when you click and we made a computer do that hundreds and hundreds of times without showing anything,” [co-conspirator Tim] Plunkett said.
Plunkett explained that the script was written out of boredom.
“We thought it was amusing to see the reactions of the people in the group [on Facebook], which were primarily sorority girls … they thought they had organized it very well and were accomplishing this on their own, which was hilarious to us. It was mostly just because we thought it was humorous that people were getting excited that we were winning,” Plunkett said. [...]
A student from Texas Tech University also tried doing the same thing. However, he was using Windows and running the script on one computer, while Plunkett was using Linux and running it on 30 computers, according to Plunkett.
“Other schools tried to do the same thing, but we just did it better,” Plunkett said.
In what might show the strength of its engineering school, Drexel remains in first on the website. I kind of doubt we’ll be seeing Drexel-themed underwear anytime soon, though.
Check out the clip above, where WFTV anchor Barbara West (whoever that is) interviews Joe Biden and quotes Karl Marx. No, really, she does. This new “Obama is a socialist/Marxist” meme is pretty awesome. Trust me, if Barack Obama were a Marxist I’d be encouraging you to vote for him every day. Not because I’m a Marxist but because it’d be so freaking awesome to have a socialist president. Think of the hijinks!
But I digress. The best part of this interview is how West’s doesn’t respond to any of Biden’s answers. It’s not an interview, really. It’s more like Biden got a list of questions he had to answer and he’s responding to them incredulously since they quote Karl Marx and ask if America’s days as a world power are over and such. And West just keeps asking seemingly fake questions even as Biden wonders if this is a Comedy Central stunt or something. It’s like she’s not even paying attention. Simply awesome.
Steve Young, an aide to Atlantic City Councilman Steve Moore (thanks for having non-confusing names, guys), said there would be 200 people at the protest. Instead, 10 showed up. But, wait, it gets better. The Press of Atlantic City writes that the protesters jumped up to a stage adjacent to one where a city-sponsored concert was being held. Then “King Jamir Shabazz, 37, a New Black Panther, began shouting racial epithets into the microphone, targeting white and black people in the crowd.”
“If you’re not willing to stand up, black men and black women, then get the hell in the river and drown with the jelly fish,” Shabazz shouted.
Yes, get the hell in that river right on the east coast of Atlantic City! With the jellyfish!
Things got a little funnier even after that; if any of the people who recorded it want to release video, please do so immediately.
The crack morning show team at Fox & Friends reported last week on a KFC now open in Fallujah. For some reason the U.S. military reported on the opening of a branch of the fried chicken chain, instead of some sort of company spokesperson. Anyway, the opening of a fried chicken restaurant in Fallujah meant that Iraqi citizens were no longer killing each other and were doing their killing the American way: To themselves, by clogging their arteries.
Anywho, it turns out the KFC in Fallujah is an unauthorized knockoff, as if you hadn’t already guessed. (Why else would I be writing about it?) TPMMuckraker got this comment from a KFC spokeschicken:
I understand you wanted some details about the store in Falluja that looks like a KFC. This store is not approved by KFC International and we have [been] working with the US Military to warn the troops of this situation.
Yes, please warn the troops immediately! We wouldn’t want them eating chicken not up to the colonel’s usual standards.
I also enjoyed this little bit at the end of the article:
We’ve also called the number of the faux KFC itself, but no one at the restaurant seems to speak English.
Gee, nobody seems to speak English at the bootleg KFC in Fallujah? I think they’re just stonewalling, scared of the muckraking about to take place. Someone will get to the bottom of this.
An enterprising Philadelphian sent an email to my boss late last week remarking on a trip to Toronto. It seems in the city is known for more than just being clean; it also has electric trolleys. SEPTA, meanwhile, recently purchased 400 new hybrid buses, which run on diesel fuel.
Our traveler went upon himself to inform Philadelphians of this situation in the best way possible (click to enlarge):
The text reads:
SEPTA’s new “hybrid” buses burn diesel fuel. Thousands of gallons, each and every day.
If we cared, we would buy new clean zero-emissions electric trolley cars, instead.
But we don’t care. And you can’t make us.
We’re SEPTA. Third-rate in every way.
Mocking SEPTA is kind of an official Philadelphia Will Do pastime, and I have to say this is simply a fantastic effort — especially the placement of the ad. Five stars.
We’re only one day into the Barack Obama presidency, and it’s turning even the blackest hearts to lush, read ones. (Is this how it works? Maybe the small heart gets bigger, like with the Grinch.) Even the posters on Domelights, a notoriously whiny bunch, 
Victoria’s Secret recently held a promotion 
