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From World Cup to D Cup: Soccer the American Way

June 21, 2010

V Magazine describes itself as “…a magazine about fashion with a capital F and all the things that go with it: art, music, film, architecture…you name it.” Well, one of those F’s must stand for Football. You know, that other kind with the World Cup and those buzzy horns. It’s a sport that’s been just about to catch on in the U.S. for the past several decades. Yet unlike the metric system, soccer refuses to give up and go away.

In the rest of the world, footballers’ wives and girlfriends, or WAGS, are a subject of great interest. (I blame you, praying mantis queen Victoria Beckham.) V’s issue #66 pokes fun at the phenomenon with a photo spread that mocks the European tabloids. But there’s a twist. All the players and women are actually models. It seems that, like much of the country, V wasn’t interested in the real thing.

And did I mention there’s nudity? What’s more American than that? V may be a cutting-edge publication, but I’m guessing there will be more than one average Joe hunched over in a fancy bookstore, surreptitiously flipping the pages. Here’s my favorite:

She makes multitasking look so classy, doesn’t she? There’s no law against texting while you breastfeed yet, is there? If you’re of a mind to see the others, go to Refinery 29 for the scoop. (Don’t worry, it’s a fashion site, not a porn site.) Some of the pics are not safe for work, but most are a hoot.

Actually, in my Internet wanderings, I did find evidence that there’s at least one American who’s a bona fide soccer fan. It’s the guy who shouted, “USA!” after smashing a pie into the face of an English player who was being interviewed by the BBC. He ran off with his hands held high, no doubt feeling quite proud of himself. Of course, the Brits just laughed it off.

If he’d done that here, he’d be on his way to a secret prison with a sack over his head. Be warned, fella. Don’t bring that behavior back here. We don’t mess around. That’s why we like bone-crunching American football, not some sissy crap where you can’t use your hands. No offense.

National Pigeon Day 2010: Part Two

June 19, 2010

New York, NY: It’s a beautiful day on Pilgrim Hill in Central Park, where Anna Dove gathers the faithful to celebrate National Pigeon Day. Miss Dove, who legally changed her name from Kugelmas in honor of her feathered friends, held the inaugural meeting here on June 13th, 2008. This year the city hosted the Puerto Rican Day parade on the 13th, forcing Ms. Dove to reschedule the festivities to today, June 19th, 2010. She remains hopeful that her petition to have the 13th recognized as National Pigeon Day will be ratified by the U.S. government.

One group stands apart from the others and doesn’t seem to be enjoying the day’s program. Wading into their midst, one gets the feeling these pigeons are no fans of this day dedicated to them.

A cocky male is the first to speak up. “First of all—no disrespect—it’s illegal to feed us here. So is this really the appropriate venue? Isn’t this supposed to be for us? Or is it just for some wacky bird people to get together and feel important? Maybe the cops look the other way today, but what about the rest of the year?”

There’s a decided anxiety among the pigeons. “You know, after that rally to stop the ban on feeding us, I thought we had some momentum,” remarks a disheveled youth, shuffling his feet. “People were taking action. But it all just faded away. I look at these people today with their pigeon cookies and fancy strollers, and I think, what happened, you know? We were counting on you guys.”

A dappled female chimes in. “What kind of world are we bringing our squabs into when we have to pick through garbage just to survive? It’s the 21st century and I can’t even get a handful of clean popcorn. Thank you, Mr. Bloomberg!”

One of the event’s speakers is talking about the loss of habitats for pigeons due to rampant human overdevelopment.

This causes a new round of complaints from the pigeons.

“Don’t you see the disconnect here? This city is our habitat! We love overdevelopment! Build more! More cities, more buildings, more people to feed us! These people are pinheads!”

“Yeah, are they gonna sterilize themselves to stop human overdevelopment? Fine with me, since City Hall wants to put birth control in birdseed. I’m a good Catholic, man. Don’t put your Nazi tactics on me!”

Whoops of agreement.

Misinterpreting the ruckus, a young girl giggles and rains breadcrumbs down on the group, which pecks at them madly. As the crumbs are consumed and the frenzy subsides, one peers up and snarls, “Don’t you judge me! You think I want to take handouts from you people? Did you ever try to make a sack of breadcrumbs with these things?” flapping his wings.

His burly neighbor agrees. “You know what would make me happy? Thumbs.”

He cocks his head to one side and casts an appraising eye on the gathering of urban avians. “But that ain’t gonna happen too soon, right? In the meantime, you know, we do rely on the kindness of strangers. And I say there’s no shame in that.”

In the milling and agitated crowd, one voice rises above the rest: “Hey! Tell her about the bag snatcher!”

This beefy bird, who won’t give his name but reveals that he usually “works the waterfront,” claims to have been at the scene of the crime. “It’s like this,” he says.”Last winter, a few of my buddies and I were visiting a sick cousin up on East 93rd. Miss Dove was out feeding a bunch of us when outta nowhere, this old guy grabs her bag of birdseed and throws it over a fence, on account of he says she’s feeding the rats, too. The cops came and it was this huge deal. We made it into the New York Post!

I look very handsome in that picture, which was taken before we hopped the fence and ate that whole bag of birdseed. The rats didn’t get one bit of that, I can tell you.”

Someone is holding a sign depicting a pigeon. The image is of Cher Ami, a pigeon owned by the U.S. Army and used in World War I in France. On his final mission, he delivered a message despite being shot, blinded in one eye and having a leg hanging by a tendon. He was awarded a medal, the Croix de Guerre, but later died of his injuries. June 13th is the anniversary of his death. The speaker calls for National Pigeon Day to be recognized so that pigeons can be properly hailed as heroes.

The birds cry foul.

“The French eat pigeons! They’re probably sucking the bones of one of our relatives right now.”

“What did that bird care about a medal? He was a carrier pigeon. They’re extinct! Not even our species, lady! What the hell is wrong with you? You say you love us, but you don’t even know us!”

“Oo la la,” says another. “All this talk of heroes! What choice did he have? What they call bravery, I call slavery.”

Murmurs of agreement. “That was not our war.”

A crusty old bird hobbles up. “Why isn’t she talking about the spikes put up everywhere so I have to sleep with them up my ass? I lost a toe last winter when it froze to a ledge and broke off. Where are my veteran’s benefits?

“We’ve been invisible long enough! You know I don’t want to say anything about those poor birds down in the Gulf, but my brother Bob flew down there on vacation a few years back and he got swallowed whole by a brown pelican! I’m just saying, they’re not so innocent.”

The old bird, clearly a rabble-rouser, shouts to his brethren, “I see a lot of gums flapping but what are they doing for us, really? Hippie losers giving us a day? Every day is pigeon day!”

“YEAH!”

“Let’s fly down to City Hall and crap these breadcrumbs all over their heads!”

In a symphony of beating wings, they’re gone.

Mayor Bloomberg had better duck.

More pigeon posts:
National Pigeon Day 2010: Part One
June 13 is National Pigeon Day- Ask Your Boss for the Day Off
National Pigeon Day. Again. I’m Not Kidding.

National Pigeon Day 2010: Part One

June 19, 2010

It’s early in the morning on Pilgrim Hill in Central Park. In a few hours, this space will be filled with people celebrating the third annual National Pigeon Day and crowding out the guests of honor who are already here: the pigeons.

Anna Dove, president of the New York Bird Club, will lead today’s events. Dove, who changed her name from Augusta Kugelmas as an homage to her dearly departed Lucie-Dove, founded this day to fight institutional discrimination against pigeons. The original date is June 13th, the anniversary of the death of Cher Ami, a carrier pigeon and decorated hero of World War I, which is now stuffed and mounted in the Museum of American History.

Cher Ami

Unfortunately, this year the city’s Puerto Rican Day parade is also scheduled on June 13. With no city permit, the pigeons’ holiday must be celebrated a week later. Racial bias? Perhaps. Not even an angry bird lover would dare say anything negative about the parade. Dove is hopeful that the government will ratify June 13 as National Pigeon Day. In 2008, its inaugural year, she told The New York Times, “We are trying to do for pigeons what Martin Luther King did for his people.” Right on, sister.

Dove was a victim of prejudice this past winter when an enraged retired schoolteacher snatched a bag of birdseed from her hands and threw it over a fence. He later claimed he’d been concerned about rats eating the food. Dove has filed charges against the man, who she claimed poked and shoved her, telling the New York Post, “The guy was violent, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a weapon next time.” These are dark days, indeed, when a citizen can’t violate the New York sanitation code prohibiting littering.

Dove feeding pigeons

As it turns out, Ms. Dove is no stranger to being on the wrong side of Johnny Law. In 2003, she was arrested for assault after she threw birdseed in the face of a Parks Department volunteer who had pointed out that city rules prohibit feeding in public parks. The volunteer, Carol McCabe, told the Post that some of the seed scratched her eye, requiring medical attention. She also stated that she had obtained a restraining order against Ms. Dove, describing her as “a little kooky.”

According to Andrew Blechman, author of Pigeons: The Fascinating Saga of the World’s Most Revered and Reviled Creature, Anna (then Augusta) said the volunteer was “a bitch with Mafioso ties” and that she’d thrown the seed at the woman to protect herself. The charges were eventually dropped, and Dove founded a club for the downtrodden pigeon feeders of New York City, which led eventually to the festivities taking place today.

Some of Anna’s flock may come to the park today in the hope that Woody Allen will finally show up. For three years, they have waited for the director to apologize for referring to pigeons as “rats with wings.” Anna urged members of her New York Bird Club to help her to pressure the writer-director into attending. The Village Voice reprinted Dove’s directive to her followers.

Please contact the list below and request that Woody Allen make an appearance at National Pigeon Day on Friday, June, 13th (details forthcoming) to make right the horrible disservice he’s responsible for by causing our feral pigeon population which are being persecuted and annihilated because of cavalier remarks like “rats with wings” (Stardust Memories, 1980, written and directed by Woody Allen) …. For nearly 30 years this ‘racial slur” has and is presently being perpetuated by the media who use it to ridicule and degrade pigeons so that they have no respect in our society and, therefore, are treated with contempt and hatred by the general public.

To date, Mr. Allen has been a no-show.

Of course, New York City officials are also a prime target for many activists. When Council Speaker Christine Quinn called pigeons “flying rats,” the Urban Wildlife Coalition’s Johana Clearfield wrote to inform Quinn that “flying rat” is an “epithet…much like the n-word.” That bad? Really?

Mayor Michael Bloomberg played both sides of the fence when he let City Councilman Simcha Felder take the heat for a proposed feeding ban, but later told the press, “We do have a lot of pigeons and they do tend to foul a lot of our areas, and people would be better off not feeding the pigeons.” Even he seemed wary of inciting a bird-loving mob.

Felder claimed the ban was aimed at minimizing pigeon excrement, which damages city infrastructure with its ammonia and uric acid. Each pigeon drops an average of 25 pounds of guano per year. That’s a lot of crap. But the bird boosters weren’t buying his story. They staged a protest at City Hall, carrying signs that said things like, “Have you known anybody killed by a pigeon?”No, I’ve never know someone killed by a pigeon. (I also don’t know anyone killed by a feral cockroach. But they’re not cute enough to get their own day.) Demonstrators also argued that pigeons teach children an appreciation for living things. Apparently, the eight million people living here don’t count.

And when City Council member James Oddo suggested birth control, a move approved by PETA and the Humane Society, to clean up the Staten Island Ferry terminal and keep poop from raining down from the ceiling panels, the pigeons groupies came down on him like, well, poop from a ceiling. Joanna Tierno, moderator of a pigeon Internet site, told a reporter:

It’s just a horrible idea just to kill off all these innocent animals, and for what reason? You can’t help but remember the Holocaust. Jews were killed because people didn’t want to look at them anymore.

Wow. Those pigeons are looking more intelligent all the time.

More pigeon posts:
June 13 is National Pigeon Day- Ask Your Boss for the Day Off
National Pigeon Day. Again. I’m Not Kidding.
National Pigeon Day 2010: Part Two

Elton John, Wedding Whore, Sings at Rush Limbaugh’s Wedding

June 8, 2010

Seriously, are you shitting me? Elton John sang at Rush Limbaugh’s wedding this past weekend? Could this be the seventh sign of the apocalypse?

I wrote about Sir John almost exactly one year ago in my post, Elton John, Funeral Whore, to Sing at Michael Jackson’s Service. Even I thought I was being a little harsh. I should never have doubted myself. Once a beloved musician, John has become little more than a bloated gay mascot. Is his ubiquity at celebrity weddings and funerals a last grasp at relevance? Or just a dash for cash?

Rush Limbaugh, bloated Republican mascot, is a staunch critic of homosexuality. He’s no fan of California’s music industry, judging from this quip: “The difference between Los Angeles and yogurt is that yogurt comes with less fruit.” Of course, that wouldn’t apply to Elton John, who’s from across the pond. But this statement might: “When a gay person turns his back on you, it is anything but an insult; it’s an invitation.”

Hmm, what would Freud have said about that? Does Rush secretly long to be a rump rustler? It certainly seems like he’s threatened by the temptation of a male tush. I can’t imagine any man (or woman, for that matter) being attracted to Limbaugh, puffed up like a beached whale baking in the sun and emitting the foul stench of decay.

Rush Limbaugh DR sex tourist

Let’s leave such speculation to the experts for now. Rush, gay hater, paid Elton, gay star, one million dollars to sing at his wedding. Since Elton is worth close to quarter of a billion dollars, I assume he will donate the money to an AIDS charity. He has contributed millions to AIDS-related causes. Unfortunately, that does not keep Sir John from being a big, sloppy media whore.

Elton John sings at Limbaugh wedding

Then again, I would hope he’d cover Rush Limbaugh’s funeral for free. I’m just not sure what he’ll substitute for Candle in the Wind. That seems to be his go-to tune. He’s tweaked it for everyone from Princess Di to Michael Jackson.

It seems to me
that you lived your life
like a cancer in the wind…

It has a certain ring to it, don’t you think? What would you have him sing?

More Limbaugh:

Stop Picking on Rush Limbaugh!

Rush Limbaugh – Douche of the Week

Sandwich Fixins #8

May 26, 2010

With the BP spill dumping gallons of oil onto our shores, Rand Paul stating (hypothetically) that private businesses should legally be able to discriminate if they feel like it, and Arizona requiring I.D. from anyone with a tan, you can see why Magick Sandwich is experiencing a dearth of creativity. It’s just hard to find anything funny to write about these days.

While I mourn the impending lack of Gulf shrimp–because this is all about me—I will try to satisfy you with the cocktail sauce of my mind in this installment of Sandwich Fixins.

*****

This is how I imagine a true patriot who stands against big government would react to a service being rammed down his throat.

When he rebuilds that house, he’ll need extra room for his aging parents who refuse to receive Medicare or Social Security because they won’t live under the lash of those evil liberal overseers, dagnabbit!

*****

BleachBlack.com has released a semen-colored nail polish called Jizz. For more sperm-related trends, check out my post, Gross Anatomy. In case you’re curious, it also sells another polish called Dickweed. It’s a bright metallic blue-green, which surprised me. But then again, I’m not sure what color I expected.

*****

Paramount is planning a movie based on the Magic 8 Ball Game. Will I see it? Reply hazy. Ask again later.

*****

A shoe manufacturer named TOMS makes slip-on sneakers that are a huge hit with celebrities. For every pair sold, another pair is given to a child in need. I know this is a really nice thing, but what if that child really needs food? I picture starving kids in trendy footwear.
Is that wrong?

*****

Lauren Conrad, 24, complains about having cellulite in May’s issue of Glamour. Meanwhile, the woman gracing the May cover of Fitness magazine says, “I have hips! I’m never going to be the thinnest actress, and don’t want to be.” Who is this zaftig beauty? Kristin Davis. She’s proud of her curves? What curves? She’s one thin layer of flesh away from being a human xylophone.

*****

While we’re on the subject of celebrities, can we please stop talking about Zoe Saldana‘s incredible “performance” in Avatar? I don’t care how realistic the motion capture was: she was running around in a body stocking, hissing her lines. Should we ask if she did her own stunts, too?

*****

Finally, a study published by the Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin reveals that we are all actually uglier than we think. If that’s so, then haven’t we lowered the bar for attractiveness? In which case…we all look good again! I love my logic.

More fixins:

Sandwich Fixins #5

Sandwich Fixins #6

Sandwich Fixins #7

Fun with Un

December 3, 2009

At Magick Sandwich, we like to have a little fun with prefixes every once in a while. Why should plain old nouns and verbs have all the fun?

Unbelievable: Here’s a brain teaser for you. The initial report went like this: At 2:25 A.M., Tiger Woods was leaving his home when he ran into a hydrant with his SUV. It happened at low speed. The airbags didn’t deploy. His wife broke the window with a golf club to free him. It doesn’t take long to come up with this equation: Hasty departure in the middle of the night + wife in driveway swinging a golf club = trouble at home.

This should be a lesson in critical thinking. If the guy’s own publicist is gagging on the story, you should think twice about it. (Because I must, let me get the obligatory golf-related joke out of the way. If Woods had been feeling more successful in his career, maybe he wouldn’t have been putting on someone else’s green. And his wife wouldn’t have been aiming for a hole in one. I have more but they’re even worse.)

Unspoken: Did you know that November 27th was the National Day of Listening? Me, neither. I guess everybody was too busy listening to be able to tell us. It’s a day to appreciate the stories of your friends, family and others, to make time to hear them speak about their lives.

Next year, perhaps the organizers should plan ahead and tell us about it, so we’ll know that, just like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day and so many others, there’s just one day a year that we have to be aware of other peoples’ importance and contributions to our lives. Now we’re free to jabber on, be self-involved and thoughtless for the next year. Just mark your calendars: you wouldn’t want to miss that one day of caring.

Unfriend has been chosen as Oxford English Dictionary’s 2009 Word of the Year. Facebook must be so proud. The corrosion of our language continues apace.

Over the coming months, we should all submit entries for Oxford’s 2010 Word of the Year.I’ve come up with a couple based on my viewing of A&E’s Hoarders. (I watch it to feel better about my own housekeeping.) The subject, Augustine, had not one but two dead, desiccated cats squashed flat under the garbage in her living room. This is something I will never be able to “unsee” and now you cannot “unknow”– come on, Oxford! If you’re going to degrade the English language, the least you can do is let me help!

I See Your Breast and Raise You a Penis: A Word Game

November 16, 2009

Today, the United States Preventive Services Task Force released its recommendation that women begin routine breast cancer screening at age 50, instead of 40. It has based this on the modest benefit of mammograms versus the harm of overtreatment.

First, let me explain that the study’s idea of modest benefit is a fifteen percent reduction in breast cancer deaths. That number sounds kind of good to me. If I were one of those women, I’d be one hundred percent happy with that.*

And the harm of overtreatment? Cancers might be removed that would have grown too slowly to kill the women in which they are detected. As you can imagine, this is a real drag for insurance companies who have to pay for the procedures when they would be happier to spin the Wheel of Fortune and bet their customers will die of natural causes. And since insurance companies are for-profit organizations, that’s exactly what they do when insuring us.

The other egregious harm the task force cites? Can mammography kill us, as cancer can? No, but unnecessary tests can cause anxiety. Isn’t it so much better for us just not to worry our pretty little heads about it? After all, only fifteen percent of our mothers, sisters, and daughters will be saved. What a tough choice.

According to one statistician, although this will save billions of dollars in health costs, “the money was buying something of net negative value. This decision is a no-brainer. The economy benefits, but women are the major beneficiaries.” I’m no number cruncher, but when did a fifteen percent reduction in mortality have a negative value?

So, what I’d like to do is play a little word game with a New York Times article published on this subject. Wherever there’s a mention of women and breast cancer, I’m going to substitute something else. See if you can tell where:

Overall, the report says, the modest benefit of the exam — reducing the dick cancer death rate by 15 percent — must be weighed against the harms. And those harms loom larger for men in their 40s, who are 60 percent more likely to experience them than men 50 and older but are less likely to have their balls fall off, skewing the risk-benefit equation. The task force concluded that one death by cock rot is prevented for every 1,904 men age 40 to 49 who are screened for 10 years, compared with one prick withering for every 1,339 men age 50 to 74, and one fatal phallus for every 377 men age 60 to 69.

But the new report conflicts with advice from groups like the American Cancer Society and the American College of Radiology. They are staying with their guidelines advising annual knob screening starting at age 40.

The cancer society agreed that man-o-grams had risks as well as benefits but, he said, the society’s experts had looked at “‘virtually all” the task force and additional data and concluded that the benefits of annual exams starting at age 40 outweighed the risks of unnecessary dickectomy.

Private insurers are required by law in every state except Utah to pay for a chubby checker for men in their 40s.

But the new guidelines are expected to alter the grading system for health plans, which are used as a marketing tool. The message for most men is to forgo ensuring their johnsons aren’t killing them if they are in their 40s. In fact, even though exams are of greater benefit to older men, they still prevent only a small fraction of dick cancer deaths.

Researchers worry the new report will be interpreted as a political effort by the Obama administration to save money on health care costs.

Of course, Dr. Dingle Berry noted, if the new guidelines are followed, billions of dollars will be saved.

“But the money was buying something of net negative value,” he said. “This decision is a no-brainer. The economy benefits, but men are the major beneficiaries.”

Do you doubt that if the above were true, there would be a million men brandishing pitchforks and torches marching on Washington right now? You know the answer as well as I do. I’m just being a tease.

P.S. On a serious note, check out this study on digital mammography funded by the National Cancer Institute and published in 2005. Digital mammography is much more accurate in detecting breast cancer in women under 50 and in older women with dense breast tissue than traditional mammography. It saved my mother’s life. I may need it to save mine someday. But even at high risk, my insurance will not cover the computer-assisted exam. The superior technology exists, right now, to save more women. Why isn’t it recommended? Because it’s a lot more expensive than telling us not to worry or to wait to have the inferior test. Statistically speaking, we’re not worth it.

*Update 2018: As it turns out, I was one of those women. In June of 2012, at the age of 47, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was caught early because of a digital mammogram that showed enough detail for a radiologist to see a very small tumor. I’m lucky that my insurance covered the more sensitive test. If I’d had to wait until age 50 to get it, I could be dead now, and my little word game would just be a sad coda to my smart-alecky life. I’m happy it didn’t turn out that way.