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Congratulations to 13-year-old Pratyush Buddiga of Colorado Springs, Colorado, who took the championship title at the 75th annual Scripps-Howard National Spelling Bee yesterday. In the 11th round, he correctly spelled "prospicience," knocking out his opponent, the formidable Steven Nalley of Starkville, Mississippi, who had misspelled "morigeration" in round 10. Round-by-round results may be examined on the official site. Buddiga advanced to nationals after some controvery at his state competition reminiscent of the Canadian Olympic figure skating snafu.

Please read "The Hooters of Hairdressers?: Greg Beets and Glu Get Buzzed at Sexy Scissors." Even though the stories are about an Austin establishment, it touches on themes that I think everyone can relate to. It's the inaugural piece for the brand-new and long-awaited (by me, anyway) Excitement Machine Features Section. Hopefully, column 1 (genuine Excitement Machine content) will be as long as column 2 (links to stuff I've written for other publications) before too long. If you'd like to contribute, and you think your stuff jives with our stuff, please!, let me know.

"Former clerk Brenda Woodson rang up and bagged porno tapes and DVDs at New Fine Arts Video West. Then the vice squad bagged her for selling what they alleged was an obscene tape." The Dallas Observer's Thomas Korosec covers the unusual trial -- a mini People vs. Larry Flynt, only the article is way better than the movie. (Also via Alt-log)

The use of the word "porno" instead of simply "porn" thoughout the piece bothered me. Seems to me it's the equivalent of flipping someone off with all your other fingers tucked down tight vs. keeping your thumb up and the rest of the fingers casually slouched over. "Porno" just sounds juvenile, uncouth, and bawdy; "porn" sounds comfortably dirty, confidently sleazy.

Two stories about priceless archives being trashed or almost trashed: in Arkansas, a TV station sent 15 years' worth of news footage from the early 60s-70s (Civil Rights era in the south, hello) to the landfill because they thought nobody wanted it. And the Center for American History at UT Austin is struggling to preserve an enormous photographic archive covering a wide swath Houston life in the mid-20th century. The 300,000+ negatives nearly disintegrated while awaiting an institution with the means and desire to care for them. (Via Romenesko's MediaNews and Alt-log, respectively)

My Sexual Encounters is a simple program that allows you to record details on all your sexual encounters/aquaintences. Sic. Sadly, it's only available for the Pocket PC.

Coffee Pot Ghosts. I'm still trying to wrap my head around this one.

Since the Excitement Machine is more "task-oriented" than "self-motivated," the how-to themed story collection called Manual is right up our yes-man alley. Even though all but one of the writers are chumps*.

Anime: Japanese term, translates loosely as "fetishize the sexuality of cartoon schoolgirls."
Auteur: French for "pretentious control freak."
Award-winning: Synonym for "I couldn't think of an adjective that describes this film."
Celebrated: (See "Award-winning.")
Critically acclaimed: (See "Celebrated.")
Heartfelt: Nauseatingly sincere.
Heartwarming: Sincerely nauseating.
Noteworthy: (See "Critically acclaimed.")
Oeuvre: French for "egg."
Pastiche: A combination of elements recontextualized from other sources. (See also "Plagiarism.")
Peerless: (See "Noteworthy.")
Semiautobiographical: Autobiographical.

From The Stranger's glossary of film terms.

YHB's postcard collection: old technicolor delights. I'll show you my (not as large or consistent) collection someday. (via lots of places.)

An American's Guide to Canada, written by an expat, covers everything to the most popular cigarette brands to roadside attractions to immigration. (via Larkfarm)

Xocoatl, aka Mrk's Chocolate Site. Most people don't know what chocolate tastes like, including me. Here's a direct lift of links to some of the other subjects he addresses:

Is a chocolate shortage imminent?
Why are Fair Trade and Organic chocolate so important?
Chocolate does not have caffeine.
Milk chocolate is candy.
The happy results of the Chocolate war.
Should i worry about eating Chocolate harvested by slaves?
[His reviews of] over 100 real chocolate bars!

(via bread, coffee, chocolate, yoga)

CNN Splash Page of Terror, brought to you by 0Format

A Westside resident called the cops Monday to report an allegedly phallic tree. God, I miss Santa Cruz. (via Boingboing)

Tenderoni.com: Lovely paintings, drawings, and animations by Francine Spiegel, which seem to be inspired by airbrush cheeze and 80s clip art.

When I lived in der Vaterland, I attempted a Mexican banquet for my peoples. My assistant cooked the rice like pasta, with tons of water, draining in a colander, the whole bit. "This is surely wrong," I thought, but I have an open-minded constitution and I wasn't about to enforce my American ways on anything. (The favorite hobby of some of the Germans I knew was obsessing on how stupid and staid Americans are. It got tiring after a while.) Besides, in terms of the vast array of German quirks, this one barely registered. Turns out the multiculturalist mantra "it's not wrong, just different" applies to rice-cooking methods just like it does to toilet shapes and the social acceptance of leather-pants wearers. (Via Plastic)

PONTIKI, the mini Japanese Mr. Potato head. He's expandable, and only one "o" away from sounding dirty!

The Cockroach Diaries 2002

I was half-mindedly watching an A&E show about the Astors, drinking coffee, Boutros Boutros by my side. She's been sleepbarking lately, quiet 4am barks that escalate into the doggie equivalent of panic attacks. One started right then, maybe in response to some low-level noise or shadows. Her episode passed and she nestled into my side.

I may have been looking directly at the blue loveseat already when the cockroach sauntered across it. A huge cockroach, thin, brown, and shiny, with long antennae. I said, "Oh no. NO." It seemed uncomfortable, yet it was not darting around like normal lost tree roaches. I think it was on a suicide mission to say, "HELLO! Welcome to Tree Roach Season!" I grabbed the can of dangerous chemicals from the dangerous chemicals cupboard (our only cupboard, actually) and hit it right on top of the pillow that so often cradles my loved ones' heads. It twisted and writhed and fell to the ground with sharp click. It ran and flipped around and disappeared under the big brown couch. I sent Boutros outside, away from the chemical cloud. Clearly, I can't sit on either couch for a while.

Cockroaches chill me to the core. They make me weak and snivelly. They reduce me going against my better judgment and using dangerous chemicals. Smashing them is out of the question, don't even bring it up. The phobia is so bad that I'm willing to be a complete wanker and purchase a bug vacuum. It all started a few years ago, when I woke up to one crawling over my legs. My roommate rushed in when I lept out of bed and screamed. She killed it, and told me it was just a cricket. She was kind to tell me that, but I knew the truth. In that same room, my big toe stepped on a dying, belly-up roach. The feeling of its scaly-soft underbelly imprinted deep within me when I realized what I was stepping on.

Spiders? Fine. Mice? Great. Snakes? Bring it. Cockroaches make me cry. This is a cry for help.

The count begins here.

Count:
Dead: 0
Alive: 0
Unknown: 1
TOTAL for 5/18/2001: 1

Today is the Excitement Machine's first birthday. Well, the log part, anyway, which transformed the site from a never-updated source of nagging guilt to a faithful imaginary friend who I'm just crazy about! I LOVE YA, LITTLE GUY!

Coincidentally, today also marks the beginning of the Machine's powerful new partnership with PopCult Magazine. Yes, it's true: An ever-so-slightly retooled version of an old story of mine, detailing a late-20th-century road trip to Roswell, New Mexico, made it to the front page of one of the greatest webzines alive, perhaps as a tangential celebration of the long-overdue death of the X-Files. Big-time thanks to Mr. Coury!

So we mosey on over to Flak, now, and its Why They Hate Us weblog was nice enough to point us to this Time.com article on NBC's fall season preview gala, at which network execs speechified about the magical post-9/11 healing powers of must-see TV:

"NBC's West Coast President Scott Sassa, in between pitches about NBC's 'upscale audience,' waxed self-serving about how NBC salved the nation's wounds after 9/11: 'Like so many life-changing moments... it was television that brought us there [to the disaster]. After Sept. 11, Americans tuned in to ease the pain, and NBC was there.' You may not have known in how many ways NBC helped to salve your wounds. For instance, the portrayals of effective cops on 'Law and Order,' said Sassa, 'must have been just what America needed' -- as were Rachel's pregnancy on 'Friends' and the 'messages of inclusion' on Will and Grace."

In The Morning News: Clay Risen of Flak Magazine writes about The New York Stub Scene -- student classical music groupies who vulture for departing patrons' seats:

"The hardest part about stubbing, both Goldman and Bedlington say, isn't the patrons, but a group of eccentric old men who occasionally show up and crowd out the students. 'They're really aggressive,' Bedlington says. 'They bar the bottom of the escalator and pester every other person, even after they've gotten a few tickets, because they want the best ones.'"

An old New York Times Magazine story on the proliferation of Indian-owned motels goes some way in explaining what the author calls a "nonlinear ethnic niche":

"I don't mean Italians owning pizzerias, or Japanese people running judo schools. I mean, to use an obvious example, the Korean dominance of the deli-and-grocery sector in New York -- a city where the Chinese run most laundries and Sri Lankans, in case you didn't know this, run most porn-video stores. Or the Arabs in greater Detroit, who have a stranglehold on gas stations, or the Vietnamese who monopolize nail salons in Los Angeles. Farther afield, I could mention London's taxi drivers, sharp-tongued in their big black cars, many of whom are Jews from the city's East End; or the security guards outside New Delhi's more affluent residences, virtually all of whom are Nepalese; or the prostitutes in the United Arab Emirates, who are so often women from Russia."

PEOPLE AT THE YMCA.

Large Asian-American college athlete who does an interesting stretch that you try yourself when he's out of eyeshot.

Fat girl on the elliptical runner who you're totally rooting for.

Sick lady who is excercising anyway, sniffling, clearing her throat.

Icky yoga practicioner guy with gray chest hair and see-thru shorts.

Older woman on a stationary bike in denim jeans and a purple turtleneck with a perfect hairdo. Later, she's doing stretches that remind you of high-school P.E.

Gangly teen boy who asks nicely if he can cut in front of you in circuit.

Greek-looking man in sauna with back dimples. His sweat marks remain long after he leaves.

A pair of young blondes, you're not sure whether they're siblings or lovers. The male half often jumps rope.

Mmmmm ... Quorn

The Unofficial Otter Pops Home Page

Check the shit that I flips scuba dip doobie dippin
It's groovy; slammin like my man Scottie Pippen
Sly like a fox, I kick the shit that rocks
I'm +Golden+ with the +Gloves+, but nice with the shots
Don't try to put me down, I don't feel pain and sorrow
(The sun will come out!) Yeah tomorrow, tomorrow
I bet ya bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun
Showin grati-TUDE, my atti-TUDE is kind of RUDE
I walk with a frown while I puff my cigar an'
sit back and stare while I'm cha-cha-cha-charrin
Watchin Boogie Down, when they used to put me down
Now your mom give me skins and your pop push me pounds
Sparkin like a welder, punch ya like I'm Elmer
Embarass your ass like Gigi does to Thelma
Quick to cut your throat, hey boy don't touch the mic
[whoosh whoosh whoosh] Yeah I'm out like three strikes

The Name-O-Meter, programmed by staggernation for Parenting.com, charts the popularity of names over the decades. Apparently there were no Kims before the 1940s: I did not know that. Then hop on over to the Baby Namer, which has -- gasp -- actual facts on your name (as opposed to this bull puckie) that might even make you laugh. See?!:

"KIMBERLY. Kimberly was the Ashley of its day, but the sun set on this name a couple of decades ago. It would seem to be stretching it to spell the name KIMBERLEY and claim it as a hot new place-name, but both spellings were indeed probably inspired by the South African diamond town. Kimberly has been big in movies and television at least as far back as the seventies, when Jane Fonda played Kimberly Wells, TV reporter, in The China Syndrome, and the name was attached to a prominent character on Diff?rent Strokes. As the years have gone by, the Kimberly characters have grown more bimboesque. The shortened form KIM had its run of popularity earlier, epitomized by Kim Novak (born Marilyn) in the fifties, and although Kim (born Kimila) Basinger is holding the fort, the name is rarely given to babies today. Alternative KIMBA seemed like an interesting possibility for about as long as Judge Kimba Wood was under consideration for Attorney General."

Wow ... South African diamond mines, and sluts. I hope I'm able to live up to that.

(to your right: Erwin Wurm's "Create These Sculptures on Your Way to Work")

Want to be an artist, but have no ideas of your own? Do It "is a manual of artist's instructions for you to actualize." Choose from scores of contemporary artists, take a pictures the process/realization, send them in, and poof! You're part of collaborative interactive performance art history. Projects range from digging a small trench in your yard throughout the summer to tipping a bicycle seat "so that the front points upwards and use the seat to squeeze lemons" to building a camera out of a washing machine. (Via Caterina.net)

"On July 1, 1999, Billy Mitchell of Florida scored the world's first (and only) perfect game of Pac-Man. This means he cleared all 256 boards, ate all the bonus fruit and four ghosts with each power pellet, and didn't die. His final score was 3,333,360 points." But that's not good enough for him, as this interview reveals. (Via this Plastic thread)

Comments. "Comments (0)" all the way down the page makes me so sad. It makes me feel fat. Won't you help? Start today! Start below! A hurled insult, your hopes and dreams, your favorite cereal or candy bar. Speculation that people who get a lot of comments are making them all up themselves to seem popular. You don't even have to use your real identity. One word will suffice, a word you think is gross ("tunic!" "moist!" "beige!") or a phrase you think is gross ("moist beige tunic!"). Bust a rhyme. Take a penny, leave a penny! C'mon, buddy!

Don't delay, listen to this mp3 today. (Thanks, Mike "Shizzy" Linnen!)

Oooh, I LOVE this! The alt-weekly publishing world, like any other kind of business, is tough, so anniversaries are rightly a cause for celebration. Unfortunately, it too often translates to smugly assured self-congratulation and romanticization of the past. But on the occasion of the Baltimore City Paper's 25th anniversary, their media critic Michael Anft turns his critique on his own employer and to the business as a whole. Oh man. Here's some quotes:

"I have some suggestions as to how the paper (and alternative weeklies elsewhere) should view itself now that it's only five years away from becoming untrustworthy ... : Make your staff younger, forget institutionalized news sections, tell your critics to kick ass, and make sure your cover stories aren't the dreary, liberal clichŽs that have bored alt-weekly readers for years." ZING!!

"Readers don't need more perfunctory 1,000-word appreciations on nonprofit do-gooders, police helicopters, or feuding neighbors." ZING!!!

"[T]he 2000 convention of the industry trade group ... was spent at a posh freakin' spa in Arizona. Um, think some of that money could go to salaries that lure talented young people who could rejuvenate staid arts pages and reintroduce graying editors to attitude? If not, alt-weeklies--City Paper included--will soon become little more than the equivalent of aging hippies and balding, paunchy punks." ZING!!!!!!

"Alternative papers should be nothing but unpredictable, yet they tend to stick to health trends/think pieces/plug-ins ("Best-ofs"/end-of-year issues) that should be trashed in favor of exercises in culture-jamming or pieces that palpably demonstrate the compelling lives of others." ZING!!!!!!!!!

"Scocca & MacLeod's recap/critique column covering syndicated newspaper comic strips, Funny Paper, is just the type of creative, original idea I'm talking about. In comparison, other columns make you wonder when their writers lost the will to live." OK, that's my quote.

Oh, oh oh. Anyway. DizzZAM! Somebody give this guy a load of venture captial and move him to the city where I live.

Also, this is the Excitement Machine's 200th entry. I AM DRUNK WITH POWER!

Four Word Film Reviews. If you thought I was going to write a four-word comment about this site, you'd be wrong, my friend.

Instead, let's play guess the movies!:
"'Home Alone' for lesbians."
"Lust redeems suburban jerk."
"Little door, big head."
"Evil jewellery attempts takeover."
"Doogie Howser turns Nazi."
"Doesn't sink fast enough."
"Two directors - bad mix."
"Chan's hilarious Eastern Western."
"Lynch. Some assembly required."
"Big dongs, disco songs."
"Ghost doctor. No fee..."
"Still paranoid when swimming..."
"Hilarious quote machine fairytale."
"George should've stopped here."
"PLEASE stop greenlighting Smith."

(via Metafilter)

TOP KARAOKE THEME PARTY IDEAS.

Caveoke

Khmer-aoke

Chaireoke (Popular in South and Central America -- the mike is passed around the table instead of the singer getting on stage).

Scaraoke (for Halloween)

Hairyoke (Heavy metal songs only?)

Prayereoke (for your next church gathering)

Aireoke (Wouldn't you like there to be karaoke on airplanes?)

Fairyoke or Dykeoke (self-explanatory)

The L.A. Times relates the story behind the florid prose antics of the Arcata Eye Police Log. If you don't know what I'm talking about, work backwards. (Via Romenesko's Media News)

Girls Are Pretty where every day is a holiday. Don't neglect the bottom right hand corner links, under the header "bullshit." (Via Mister Pants)

What's Better? is going to be big! BIG! like Am I Hot or Not. The best part is all the images one can appropriate for one's own needs.

Typographic Signage Project: "a brief survey of signs in the Chicago area."

M.U.S.C.L.E. Men were a cross between Lucha Libre, Pokemon, and erasers and I loved those damn little fellas! This guy has named them well (Mr. Planet, Mr. Peanut's Son, Frog-Tongue-Head Jack, Baby Spiff, Chet, Happy Pudding, Crossing Guard Wally). (Via Metafilter). This collector has had dreams of finding new MUSCLE men and renders them for you here. He also made a crazy movie starring two of the action figures.

No Pants Day 2002 is today and its epicenter is right here in my own damn town! The founders do all sorts of other performace art projects. No Pants Day's radio promo is something you might like to have in your mp3 collection.

Paper Rad All the colors of the rainbow never looked so pretty. (via Sharpeworld)

If You Are Trying to Read While Lying Down The Ergonomy of a Book Will Kill You! (click Experiment #3 on the left-hand side) Reading in bed sucks. In fact, I nearly died last night trying to flip through a five-inch thick encylopedia. Nofont has some typographical solutions to this problem. (via Linkdup)

EN TERRU (Pt.2)

Full-blown riot The Police ignited the pepper spray and batons

Approached Chucky to find out what of the Blue which way to roll

And he's just swinging his Out of control 'disobeying a lawful order: freeze!'

Get down on his knees, which both Chad and Val say he did

Cuffed later found blood on the end of his club cold/

Police then struck Val And another officer swung/

And another hardly isolated boiling-over short-circuiting machine firing on Chad

Who was trying to keep order/

Memorize his version of the new order police state/

Decipher the reverse psychology military crowd techniques/

And keep his face off the street while

Pleading w/ officers to stop beating Chucky “just swinging his shin with a baton

more stun devices and coded bullshit'

(He was hit in the eye with a rubber bullet.)

(2002 ChrisWeigeInCahoots.
HewashitintheeyewitharubberbulletY.

Prepared Foods.com. YES. (Via Bonnie's Phreaky Phriday Phun Linx)

Kingamerica is like Watership Down ... in another galaxy!!!, with its random Flash animations ("random" in my pan-Californian idiolect is synonymous with "kooky"/"inscrutable") and a hilarious (but NOT random) journal. 0format's monthly newsletter is to thank for this one, you go sign yourself up now, you hear.

While we're on the subject, if someone wouldn't mind drawing up a chart or graph demonstrating the interconnections between 0format, Fireland, The Morning News, Whaleane, Why God Why, yeah, that would be great. (And am I missing anyone?)

Are these people all friends? Do they hang out together and have sparkling conversations? Do they live in New York City and dance in the streets among hot young Latinos and African-Americans, drinking Coca-cola? These are the things I'm left to imagine.