Evan Siple dot com

Say whatever you want about the current state of affairs in our country, one thing remains painfully true: The United States of America kick fucking ass. This inspirational blockquote brought to you from the year 1973:

“LET’S BE PERSONAL” Broadcast June 5, 1973 CFRB, Toronto, Ontario

Topic: “The Americans”

The United States dollar took another pounding on German, French and British exchanges this morning, hitting the lowest point ever known in West Germany. It has declined there by 41% since 1971 and this Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most generous and possibly the least-appreciated people in all the earth.

As long as sixty years ago, when I first started to read newspapers, I read of floods on the Yellow River and the Yangtze. Who rushed in with men and money to help? The Americans did.

They have helped control floods on the Nile, the Amazon, the Ganges and the Niger. Today, the rich bottom land of the Misssissippi is under water and no foreign land has sent a dollar to help. Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy, were lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of those countries is today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United States.

When the franc was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans who propped it up and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it.

When distant cities are hit by earthquakes, it is the United States that hurries into help… Managua Nicaragua is one of the most recent examples. So far this spring, 59 American communities have been flattened by tornadoes. Nobody has helped.

The Marshall Plan .. the Truman Policy .. all pumped billions upon billions of dollars into discouraged countries. Now, newspapers in those countries are writing about the decadent war-mongering Americans.

I’d like to see one of those countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar build its own airplanes.

Come on… let’s hear it! Does any other country in the world have a plane to equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tristar or the Douglas 107? If so, why don’t they fly them? Why do all international lines except Russia fly American planes? Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or women on the moon?

You talk about Japanese technocracy and you get radios. You talk about German technocracy and you get automobiles. You talk about American technocracy and you find men on the moon, not once, but several times … and safely home again. You talk about scandals and the Americans put theirs right in the store window for everyone to look at. Even the draft dodgers are not pursued and hounded. They are here on our streets, most of them … unless they are breaking Canadian laws .. are getting American dollars from Ma and Pa at home to spend here.

When the Americans get out of this bind … as they will… who could blame them if they said ‘the hell with the rest of the world’. Let someone else buy the Israel bonds, Let someone else build or repair foreign dams or design foreign buildings that won’t shake apart in earthquakes.

When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both are still broke. I can name to you 5,000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble.

Can you name me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don’t think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake.

Our neighbours have faced it alone and I am one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them kicked around. They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do, they are entitled to thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles.

I hope Canada is not one of these. But there are many smug, self-righteous Canadians. And finally, the American Red Cross was told at its 48th Annual meeting in New Orleans this morning that it was broke.

This year’s disasters .. with the year less than half-over… has taken it all and nobody…but nobody… has helped.

ORIGINAL SCRIPT AND AUDIO
COURTESY STANDARD BROADCASTING CORPORATION LTD.

On June 28th, I did something that can only be described as monumentally wonderful. I ordered a Haier HBF05EAVS-2 Dual Faucet Brewmaster Kegerator w/Platinum Finish Door. This stunningly beautiful work of modern achievement, this marriage of art, steel and beer is currently being shipped to my house.

With an internal capacity of 6.4 cubic feet, this polished darling can hold a wide variety of kegs, or more importantly two 5-gallon kegs of whatever flavor we so choose. The options, it would seem, are nearly limitless. Dogfish Head Ale? Killians? Bass? Dare I say, Resurrection?? The thought of pulling a wide mouth Mason jar or two from my freezer and filling it with frosty, delicious, and most importantly insanely inexpensive quality beer is causing me to drool. At last, our place of living will be worthy of legend, complete in its state of being better than yours.

And so it is with baited breath that I wait, sweating and twitching until July 8th when this awesomestrocity arrives, and the rest of you posers decide you’re going to buy one too. Posers.

We all know about the kiddie drug Salvia dinorum from all the various news reports about how it’s going to kill our children, turn us all into slaves of the bong, it’s the next crack, that sort of thing - none of it true mind you, but did you know that it can also make you an excellent gardener? It’s true! Check it out.

Dear Evan,

At least, you can still own a gun. Surely such a landmark ruling will bolster our patriotism through the long dark night of $4/gal. of gas! Especially in Baltimore, where I won’t even talk to white people (I’m talking about you W.E. Gatsum) unarmed.

What’s really important is that poor and rich alike are fooled into thinking security lies in guns rather than, say, property reform. Luckily we have rich people and slum lords to teach us how its done…

your friend, Luke

[FYI: former resident of 1800 block of Eutaw St.; Former employee and researcher for Co* Group -- meaning I know a few (not many) things about stuff.]

The fucking DOW is down 230 points today to an almost 3-year low, while Oil is approaching $140 a barrel. Unemployment is rocketing to the future, everything is going fucking crazy. OK ECONOMY, WE GET IT, IT’S TIME TO STOP SHITTING THE BED NOW. I looked through my photo collection and found pictoral evidence of the lunacy:

2001

2004

2008

2008 1/2

I caught one of the largest lumps in my throat of all time this morning upon hearing that George Carlin passed away over the weekend. I’m not going to get into a history lesson about why he was the greatest comedian to ever live in my eyes, but he was voted the 2nd greatest comedian ever on Comedy central behind Lenny Bruce (ahead of Richard Pryor) so I’m not alone in that opinion. His masterful ability to cut through the bullshit that human beings perform on a daily basis will never be duplicated - at least, not in our lifetimes.

I was lucky enough to have seen him perform on March 29th performing his HBO special It’s Bad For Ya and I don’t think I stopped laughing the whole time he performed. When my mother asked me if I wanted to go see him, my response was pretty appropriate:

oh yeah, that sounds like it would be great - i haven’t ever seen him live and should probably do that before he’s too old to yell obscenities anymore!

Thankfully, that never happened. Here’s hoping he’s smoking a fat stogey with H.L. and Pryor in magical unicorn land. Speaking of which:

My award for Best Tech Retail Website in the Universe goes to Newegg.com, hands down. Why? Because at or about 3:30-4:00pm yesterday I ordered a laptop through their well-designed, incredibly useful website for finding even the most specific of specific electronic needs through 6 levels or so of filters designed to find just what YOU need, plus highly highly detailed and useful user feedback sections and specifications, and it just now arrived right next to me at 10:40am the next day. THE NEXT DAY, WITHIN 18 HOURS. Not only that, but with their preferred account service, which is free, I don’t have to make payments on the thing for a year and got free rush processing on the order. Yeah, they win. Lowest prices, fastest delivery, great navigation, I love them.

(I also ordered a plasma TV from them last yearish with very similar results)

Just because Evan didn’t believe I would write this (see his comments), I’m writing this. But it’s not going to be long because I have to get back to my sweet new pad in South Baltimore (not Federal Hill) with its highly competitive parking and my 9 pounds of oatmeal.

So my mother and father took me to Corks for Father’s Day because I got a job and moved out of their house. My sister didn’t come because she had better things to do than eat at a 4-star restaurant and honor her father on the holiest day of the year for him, but it was all good because I didn’t feel bad about getting the wine pairings with my dinner, which doubled the price, since it was a wash.

I started dinner with a Pinot Noire because John Adams was always talking about it in that movie he was in about drinking wine. I don’t know what it was, but I know it wasn’t rail because they let me smell it before I committed. It had a subtle yet balanced bouquet and called to mind the summers I spent in Barcelona in my grandmother’s cherry orchard, a hot breeze delicately wafting hints of plum and strawberry, with a honeysuckle finish. Nah, I’m just dicking you, but it was amazing wine.

So, my father and I opted for the 4-course Farmer’s Market meal and my mother got grilled sea bass with homemade mozzarella in a green curry vinagrette. Okay, I didn’t even know you could make mozzarella at home, and hopefully it wasn’t in the bathtub because that shit’s illegal now, but anyway, the mozzarella and curry was like if the Incredible Hulk were a cheese and your tastebuds were dying of boredom and the hulk-cheese clapped his hands together and smashed that boredom to pieces. It was seriously that good. My dad and I started with a salad which was some kind of green leaf that I couldn’t pronounce and I kinda thought it was a grain or something until it came. Actually, while the lettuce-looking stuff had an interesting flavor, the salad was only okay, but that’s salad am I right? Oh yeah, so I should explain the farmer’s market thing. Apparently, Chef Jerry Pellegrino goes down to the Farmer’s Market under 83 on Sundays and gets all the ingredients for the meal from there. Also, you may recognize Chef Pellegrino from his show, Radio Kitchen on NPR. So just to put this in perspective, famous chef and NPR show-host goes to a farmer’s market and prepares you an exquisite meal that he pairs with excellent wines. Dude, that’s like Barack Obama showing up to board-game night to ask you what’s best for the poor.

Anyway, our second course was like a lasagna made out of squash. It was so amazingly good that I’m getting angry that I’m not eating it right now. If parents would prepare squash that tasted that good, or maybe get the recipe for the cream sauce, kids wouldn’t have to be such dicks about eating squash. My mom just had to watch us eat because she cheaped out and only got a two-course meal, but I would advise you to reconsider and maybe just stick to happy hour for a few evenings to save up for the freaking squash lasagna. Amazing. The wine we had was something white and crisp and nicely complemented the amazingness of the squash, but I don’t remember what kind it was because I was kinda getting drunk by this point and I’d pretty much been drinking all weekend.

So, anyway, my third course was smoked duck and my parents both got striped sea bass, or rock fish, as we used to call it before The Wire got popular. My mother said it was the best fish she had ever had and she wouldn’t lie about that. My dad ate the entire thing and said how good it was despite his being really full because he had eaten a huge brunch a few hours before even though he knew we were going out to dinner. That’s another thing. For a nice restaurant, the portions are pretty big and you won’t be sneaking out for a slice afterwards because you’re still hungry but you don’t want to look like a fatass. Anyway, so I had the smoked duck. If I had known that ducks could taste that good I would have never gotten my own place and I would quit work and spend every waking moment of my life hunting them down and devouring them. It was like eating a steak that never had mournful eyes. And there were mashed peas with it that made mashed potatoes seem aloof and kinda annoying because every bite of them was so fascinating and insightful. Ahhh so good! I must have been spoiled by my original pinot noire though because the one I had with the duck was only so-so, but whatever, I was kinda shit-faced by then and my dad and I were getting loud and out of hand, so it was good that it was time for desert.

But wait because desert was yet another pleasure explosion in my mouth with cherries floating in a luscious mint custard. I may never bother to taste again. My mom got creme brulee and it was freaking awesome too, but see, Corks drops the Spirit Bomb on you because the final wine was a muscat and the thought of that heavenly sweetness makes me want to weep and scratch myself at the misery of its absence. So I’m pretty sure that this was the best meal I’ve ever had in Baltimore. Better than brunch, better than crabs, damn near better than beer, though not as affordable, but definitely more likely to get you laid. Anyway, Corks has to be the hottest thing I’ve seen in Federal Hill since popped collars, at least until Jenna Bush moves in. So don’t be a giant douche who bumps into me and spills my Miller Light craft beer at trivia and go eat there.

Via. Not sure where they got it. I’m sure this has to be semi-famous by now.