by ALEX CARNEVALE
Events continue to occur. The timeline is infinite. The NBA draft lottery occurred, was witnessed. Will never happen in the same way again. Our government owns the largest automaker in the world, possibly also the poorest. Toyota has oodles of cash reserves. Better planning and preparation brought the Orlando Magic to the brink of greatness. They still couldn't improve Stan Van Gundy's wardrobe.
When the mentally ill return to society, this is the kind of dress they'll adopt. Someone put Stan Van Gundy in a halfway house. Some people are still living large. Madonna just spent $40 million on a townhouse in my neighborhood. The iteration of such events gives one pause. They found a certifiable missing link, and that it was also taking Xanax. It was in all probability Blake Griffin.
Perhaps most importantly of this coming together of American life is the concordance that brings Kobe Bryant back to Denver, the site of his most real trangression. It was almost an Ali-type situation, but then Kobe started acting like a dick, and he just didn't "get" Twitter. I respect Kobe, have you seen his wife?
She's all kinds of crazy, but that's why he loves her. I just finished watching the first season of United States of Tara. It's absolutely awesome, and Toni Collette in particular is tugging at my tear ducts when she's not saying anything. Mental illness is hard, remaking The Adventures of Pelham 123 is easy. They should have just bite the bullet and called it Swordfish 2.
Also quietly sneaking under the radar is the Weinjew brothers adaptation of Alexander McCall's The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency. The pilot was directed by Anthony Mingella, and stands alone as one of the more gregarious films of the year. I mean, this white-envisioned drama about Botswana is just so clean-cut and exciting.
Jill Scott is absolutely tremendous, as was the adorable actress who played her younger self. Someone get that little girl in a biopic of Rosa Parks.
Besides an end to Saturn commercials, this is all I'm waiting for. In mid-2008, near Svalbard, in the Artic, in the real world in which we live, Norwegian paleontologist Jørn Hurum unearthed the remains of a titantic sea predator. He called the fearsome beast, Predator X, for nothing could combat in the oceans of this world.
No one quite knows why Predator X is going after seagulls in this illustration, but the seagulls are up against over 8 tons of pure predator.
The best show on television for former amateur paleontologists is The Animal Extractors, where those who pose an unwholesome risk to the human spieces are eradicated and released into deserts, or caught in bear traps.
Now that The Animal Extractors have come to Hulu, I can revisit the strategems of these tender creatures, and also bears, snakes, bison, raccoons, and people from Phoenix.
It's coming along. Occasionally things will seem to be getting better, but then they'll come back from 8 weeks without The Bachelor for a tepid version of The Bachelorette. Have you even seen some of the shows that ABC is bringing to television? I half want to drive to Mark Cherry's house and punch him in the face, and I half want to cry.
Predator X died out, was consumed, extinct. If extinction is not so far away, maybe we had better begin to guard ourselves against it. What does the land biome have over the Darwinian advantages of a water setting? What can we take to keep existing, to make sure our children have someplace to lord themselves over? If only money stopped AIDS. If only money stopped AIDS, and we still had our money.
Alex Carnevale is the editor of This Recording. He tumbls here.
"Flaw" — Hot Chip (mp3)
"Sanfrandisco" — Hot Chip (mp3)
"Making Tracks" — Hot Chip (mp3)