In Defense of Seth MacFarlane

Did I Do That?

Really America? This is what preoccupies us? Our country certainly can be disappointing at times. We are poisoning our children, the food we eat, the very air we breathe. Our civil rights are systematically eroding all around us. State-of-the-art, flying robots are being used to execute innocent women and children across the globe. Meanwhile, the companies responsible for all of this death and destruction are reaping benefits never before seen in the history of modern civilization. In light of all this, how do we react? By hurtling endless vitriol at the dude who hosted the Oscars. Obviously.

In order to manufacture outrage in this country, apparently what you have to do is something really obscene. Like sing a lighthearted ditty about female anatomy, wherein many of the subjects of the humor are in on the joke. Then people will be furious. They'll take to the message boards, they'll gather around the proverbial water coolers of their lives and bitch like petulant children.

Somebody Call the Waaambulance.

God forbid you make any sort of self-aware racist barb, anti-semitic quip or homophobic wisecrack. After all, a meta-joke is no defense for a tasteless slur! Except that, it is. Because instead of making fun of blacks, or Jews, or Gays, you're making fun of the people that make fun of blacks and Jews and Gays. That's a substantiative, fundamental difference and if you don't understand it then the joke is on you, as well.

I'm hardly a Seth MacFarlane loyalist. Sure, I'll watch an episode of Family Guy once in a while if it's late, I can't sleep and I've been hanging out in, say, post-2012 Colorado or Washington state. But I'm not in love with the guy (not that there's anything wrong with that). Actually, I wish I wasn't in a position where I'm forced to defend him. But Sweet Jesus, the internet will just not leave this man alone. 

There are so many things to despise about the Oscars. It's a bloated, drawn-out, self-important pageantry of pomp that could easily be condensed into 30 minutes of significance, commercials included. Yet none of these perennially aggravating flaws have anything to do with Seth MacFarlane nor his particular brand of irreverent humor. 

After Glimpsing Into The Future of His Career

Truth be told, if there was any problem with the host this past Sunday it was that he was far too tame. Anybody that has at least a modicum of familiarity with truly offensive humor--from talentless pigs the likes of George Carlin, Lenny Bruce, Louis CK, and early 80s Eddie Murphy--would understand the subdued nature of MacFarlane's supposedly vulgar outbursts. 

Worse still are the people that complain that he was predictable and boring in his tastelessness. YOU ARE PRECISELY THE PEOPLE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE LACK OF EDGINESS. He tamped it down and made it boring to appease you, the self-important, squeamish masses! If you complain this much about him--sans his prickliest barbs--imagine how frothily you'd be foaming at the mouth if you got the full-on Family Guy version of the dude! 

Oh heavens to bitsy! Did he just allude to Jodie Foster's on-screen nudity?! That was from during a (gasp) rape scene! Have you no decency?

How Dare You Objectify Me!

Guess what? The idea of someone pausing the screen during a rape scene to admire Jodie Foster's female form is patently absurd--nobody admires Jodie Foster's female form! If you can't find humor in that, it's you that has the problem. At it's very core comedy is pure magic in its ability to somehow extract laughter from the depths of despair. It's a uniquely human trait--and a miraculous one at that. Don't diminish or cheapen it with your stubborn attempts to prove that someone has hurt your feelings--or worse yet--somebody else's feelings! 

Louis CK once wondered aloud when the soonest appropriate time would be to jerk-off in the wake of 9/11 (for him, it was between the first and second tower falling). Masturbation as related to the greatest single tragedy in our nation's history. This is the same guy whose material includes punchlines about his own daughters being sexually assaulted.  That is offensive stuff. That makes MacFarlane at the Oscars seem like Mother Theresa on Jay Leno. But you know what? People still find it funny. A lot of people, in fact. Louis CK is practically the biggest name in comedy today. Just because you don't find it funny doesn't mean there is no traceable comedic value. To assume so is egotistical and ignorant. Above all, it's insensitive to the tastes of others--which is what you're bitching about to begin with. That makes you a hypocrite at best and a self-righteous prick at worst.

All this phony sanctimony is positively maddening and painfully transparent: people will, without mercy, seek out THE. EASIEST. WAY. to feel better about themselves. We could go march down on Washington, right now, demanding legislators bring our troops home from pointless battles in faraway lands, insist on corporate accountability for our increasingly toxic, cancer-inducing environment--just to randomly name but a couple of serious issues plaguing us on the reg. But that would involve action. You know, like big-time, logging-off-of-Facebook kind of action. It's so much easier to just tweet your displeasure at someone who voices cartoons for a living, feign big ol' crocodile tears and show everybody how socially conscious you are. As if it's not bad enough that we have to live in a world where cataclysmic injustice goes furiously unchecked, now you wanna strip me of my only coping mechanism for dealing with that fact: unapologetically ruthless comedy. As they say, you can either laugh or you can cry.

But you know what makes me legitimately wanna cry? Aside from the fact that we live in a country where the dude who made a joke about Chris Brown beating up Rihanna catches more flack than the guy who actually beat up Rihanna (last I checked, Chris Brown has sold more records after physically abusing a seven time Grammy award-winning woman than he did before). What saddens me the most is that all this misspent outrage mutates society into one big self-satisfied delusion. As if railing against irreverent humor is a respectable stand-in for retaliating against global atrocities with rampant apathy and consistent inaction. Ultimately we end up with precisely what we deserve: Billy Crystal hosting the Oscars again. And that, my friends, is no laughing matter.

This Is Funny, Right?

Happy Belated New Year

Play It Cool

**Merry Christmas**

Husky-lujah 

Red Rock

Serenity Now

Joy

"Religion is the smile on a dog"

The Wave

This Is Real

**Fox News Declares Race for Romney**

This just in: Fair and Balanced bastion of all things reputable, Fox News, has officially declared Mitt Romney victorious in today's presidential election. The update came in at roughly 7AM EST, just moments after polls opened across much of the Eastern seaboard. Viewed as a complete surprise by many pundits who had for months anticipated a tightly-contested race, Fox analysts seemed unsurprised by the results.

"With as much as .000009 percent of precincts reporting in the bellwether states of South Carolina and Georgia, it's a no brainer that Romney has this thing locked," said former GOP Strategist and guardian of Satan's minions, Karl Rove. "Many other networks are going to try and claim they called it first, but if you look back at the record you'll clearly see that we had this thing pegged as early as January 21st 2009," Rove added before hastily retreating into the smoldering vortex of an eternally-damned dimension. 

Staff Photo

Others were not so convinced. Nate Silver, the notoriously maligned prognosticator of probability, furiously questioned Fox's methodology which purportedly involved watching old episodes of Hee Haw while flipping a coin featuring the Republican candidate on both sides. "Sure, the coin produced results in line with their eventual conclusion," Silver was quick to note, "but how many times did they flip that coin? And I doubt they took into account the variances on the central limit theorem proposed by 19th Century Russian mathematician Aleksandr Lyapunov. How can you ignore something so obvious? It's plain as day!"

Regular Fox News contributor and failed reality star Sarah Palin defended her employer, emphatically assuring the cynics that, "although I don't speak a lick of Russian, I still can see Putin's ugly head rearing up over the jungles of Alaska." 

Although unable to establish the relevance of her curious comment in regards to the Romney projection, she ultimately praised the merits of calling a winner mere seconds after polls opened, citing, "what with Jesus and freedom, and all." She's well aware of her network's insatiable veracity: a Fox survey from earlier this year placed her ahead of the future president, 70% to his 60%.

Back to the Drawing Board

By press time most skeptics had been silenced by Ann Coulter's Adam's Apple, who in speaking openly for the first time, reminded the public that Fox News has indeed been, "infallible since the dawn of man." The inexplicable laryngeal prominence then went on to inadvertently accuse 'Miss' Coulter of being a self-loathing transgendered male.

With the indisputable results now certified, talking heads were at last able to stray away from the horse-race, shifting focus to more pressing domestic matters. Shortly before 8AM, the ever-cerebral hosts of the award-winning Fox & Friends Comedy Hour--who famously moonlight as MIT astrophysicists--began discussing wether President Romney would be defeating Senator Clinton or Governor Cuomo in his upcoming 2016 reelection bid.

Is Our Children Learning?

Breaking: Start of the 2016 Presidential Campaign

Run--don't walk--to the polls. And be happy that after today you won't have to hear a word about presidential campaigning until about halfway through 2013, when Christ Christie vs. Andrew Cuomo really starts to heat up! It promises to be a horse race of epic proportions...

Global Warming Is Totally A Hoax

Hurricanes kick it with blizzards like all the time. This has absolutely NOTHING to do with human-induced climate change. In fact, if there is anyone to blame, I'd have to say that it's President Obama. He knew about this Frankenstorm all along and refused to warn ANY OF US! 'Why?' You might ask? Because he hates us all, duh! Now let's all just hide our hands firmly back in the sand until this monster of a storm passes over the more than 60 million people whose lives and property are threatened.

Two-Party Tyranny

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

"I wonder if we'll ever wake up to the sad reality that we exist, confined in cells of our design."

**THE BEST BURGERS EVER**

Inspired by this awe-inspiring GQ list, which places Budweiser firmly in the ranks of the 50 Greatest Beers on the Planet, I figured I had to create a head-scratching mini-list of my own. This one ranks another of man's great joys: Hamburgers. Now I know I've expertly tackled this subject before at great length, but GQ helped me come to my senses about how elitist and snobbish I once was. I've since learned to embrace the pedestrian nature of our society, and so here now is the result of my style magazine-induced epiphany:

5.) Famous Star w/ Cheese - Carl's Jr. 

This char-broiled, all-beef patty is already a sensory revelation on its own. But when you throw in melted American cheese--the honey boo boo child of the dairy world--then top it with "special" sauce AND mayonnaise before sandwiching it all between a seeded bun that's preserved well-enough to withstand a nuclear holocaust; that's one holy cow!

Carl's Jr.--even prettier in real life!

4.) Sirloin Cheeseburger - Jack In The Box

Ever since they were shut down several years ago for poisoning people to death, Jack In The Box has been back with a vengeance! Their Sirloin Cheeseburger is a prime example. Not just a clever nickname--it actually consists of 100% Sirloin, which is fittingly one of the closest cuts to the asshole of the cow. I personally enjoy how it's served on a bakery 'style' bun, much like it's a quality 'style' hamburger. 

Studies suggest that you can actually contract Salmonella from staring at this image

3.) Dave's Hot N' Juicy Triple - Wendy's

As America knows full well, BIGGER IS ALWAYS BETTER! Wendy's validates this incontrovertible truth with their alarmingly oversized triple cheeseburger. After all, why only have one, lonely human-size portion of 'real' beef, when you can have three at three times the price? Diabetes is no joke people. If you don't start getting serious about your meat consumption now, you'll never be able to drain our severely overburdened healthcare system by the time you reach your early 60s. Also, it should be a given that when you think of the late, portly restauranteur Dave Thomas, the first two adjectives that come to mind are 'hot' and 'juicy.'

Now available in 'Merica! Size

2.) Carolina BBQ Whopper ® - Burger King

Who doesn't love the Whopper--vegetarians and people with tastebuds withstanding? I mean it's a flame-grilled beef patty of indeterminate origin, that essentially confirms the existence of God. There's no way you can improve upon perfection, right? WRONG, ya moron! Add bacon, and not the 'real' kind, but that super-sad bacon that has the consistency of a wetted, chewier square of Charmin's toilet paper, then smother that bad boy in a corn-syrupy swath of southern sauce that's defined even more vaguely than a Romney economic policy. Now you're cooking! Just like momma used to make, if momma was an ethically-challenged multinational conglomerate. 

I actually prefer the 'actual,' far less of that silly green stuff

1.) Big Mac - McDonald's

Topping this list of unimaginable greatness...Is there really any question? Did the hamburger even exist before America's friendliest, most health-conscious establishment unleashed this artery-clogging artwork upon the world? The short answer is no. The long answer is of course. But thanks to the ingenius insertion of a curiously-placed interloping third bun, we never looked at the hamburger quite the same again. They put the H.A.M. in hamburger. And does the third bun serve any purpose whatsoever? If that's your takeaway from the Big Mac, you are missing the entire point, not to mention you're far stupider than the billions and billions of satisfied customers that have enjoyed this game-changer since it was introduced over 50 years ago. To put it bluntly: die. Or, in other words, eat a bunch of Big Macs.

Gotta love that 9:2 bun to beef ratio

ZING...

Perhaps the greatest line and delivery of modern political sparring:

Bentsen: "I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine...Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy."

Quayle: "That was really uncalled for, Senator."

Bringing The Heat

AJ's Mango Habanero 'Masterspice'

I like things spicy. Real spicy. Unfortunately, most foods and sauces labeled as such fall underwhelmingly flat, aimed at a country with a proclivity for impossibly bland tastes. I'm looking at YOU, Taco Bell 'Fire' Sauce. And Tabasco doesn't even scratch the surface, although I do at times appreciate its vinegary essence. Conversely, the few hot sauces out there that do deliver on the promise of their label often fail to bring any meaningful medley of flavors to the palate. 

Why does it seem as though I can't have my cake super hot and eat it too?

Spicemaster and entrepreneur Anuj Patel sympathizes with my dilemma. As a connoisseur of Indian flavors, he fully understands the pleasures derived from the happy coexistence of intense taste and insane heat. This is why he created his very own hot sauce, harnessing heaping amounts of locally-grown, organic habaneros which he enhanced with the unexpected addition of fresh mangoes. The result is his newly-minted AJ's Masterspice, a surreal explosion of furious fire and serious soul. By introducing the fruit element, your tongue is able to discern the hidden intricacies of the habanero. It is an unfamiliar exploration to be sure, because most sauces incorporating this infamous pepper, fail to temper the initial heat blast with such gentle precision. You'll find yourself enjoying aspects of the habanero that you never even knew existed.

A gentle dollop of this potent elixir added to your favorite dish reveals a subtle sweetness accompanied by the deep, devilish tones of habanero. When the spiciness drops, it drops BIG. But when used sparingly, it's nothing that can't be tackled by less than a spoonful of yogurt or cucumber sauce. 

To me, however, it's not a real meal unless you've broken a sweat. Hyper-heat can be a spiritual experience--meditative even, as you contemplate the pain, dwell in it and let your mind temporarily elevate you to a higher plane. That being the case, AJ's Masterspice is my new guru. If you see it around, pick it up (carefully, of course). With its stunning packaging, semi-serious warning label, and trademark orangish-yellow hue, the bottles are hard to miss. Just remember, you've been warned: if you can't stand the heat, stick with Frank's Red Hot or something.

Hella Habanero

Review: Muse - The 2nd Law

Courtesy of Muse

Few would accuse Muse's newest studio offering--released October 1st--as being their most groundbreaking work. Yet it surely continues the successful formula which they've ridden to the top: kicking serious ass. 

The gut-busting begins in earnest with Supremacy, a fitting choice for an opener with its guitar scratching, earth-scorching bombast. The stakes are raised almost immediately upon the introduction of a full orchestral accompaniment.  Cue the choir and it's clear that England's favorite hard rock act is setting the controls for the heart of the sun. All of the usual suspects that we've come to associate with the band are on full display, from frontman Matthew Bellamy's operatic falsetto, to the deep, dark riffs  that he so often whips into a frenetic crescendo. It concludes with a twang of whimsical arpeggio, summoning the listener on the aural odyssey to follow.

The voyage veers off-path in a hurry with Madness, their most recent single, and an obvious departure from their tried and true stylings. Decidedly more Pop than Prog, the track finds Bellamy crooning in a sorta futuristic R+ B manner. While not at all what I have come to expect from the power trio, the song is undeniably catchy, beginning with rhythmic electro-bass pulses and building upon itself with purpose as it unfolds. Slowly it gives way to a brief-yet-blistering solo where we find Bellamy channeling his inner May before culminating in a triumphant, emotional climax. It somehow becomes more profound upon sequential encounters. 

Courtesy of Will Ireland/Getty Images

Next up is a dirty little wallop known as Panic Station, featuring a full-on horn section (from the same folks  that brought you the legendary hook in Stevie Wonder's "Superstition"). Bassist Chris Wolstenholme slaps out a driving groove that provides a firm foundation for the intoxicating funk that Bellamy layers on top.  The brass, riffing repeatedly throughout the chorus, melds itself effortlessly into the sonic landscape.  

The mood shifts drastically as the album explores the symphonic grandeur necessary to prelude an olympic anthem. A swinging piano riff emerges, accompanied by the metered cadence of an extended choir and an occasional sopranic flight of fancy. Such is the pomp and circumstance that defines Survival. The official song of London's 2012 games is wrought with such over-the-top delivery that--if  the lead singer's heritage was anything aside from Anglican--we'd have to question wether or not he was putting us on. 

Chris Wolstenholme, Matthew Bellamy and Dominic Howard

The remainder of the album tinkers with the more common trappings of contemporary music, like the dubstep-minded hook in the otherwise pedestrian Follow Me, or the Radiohead-inspired polyrhythms of the melancholic Animals.

Save Me and Liquid State are notable entries. Penned by Wolstenholme and chronicling his struggle with alcoholism, they showcase a surprisingly infectious timbre. As impassioned as his delivery is, the songs are as memorable for what they aren't. Bellamy's trademark wailing has become such a fixture of the Muse sound that these numbers could be mistakenly attributed to another band altogether. 

The chaotic immensity more familiar to the band reemerges in spades for the conclusion of their sixth studio album. The title track is broken down into a two-part suite, as ominous as it is ultramodern. Unleashing a salvo against the insatiable desires of man, Muse continues to weave the thread of social commentary into the core of their music, as they have from the beginning. "A species set on endless growth is unsustainable," we are warned. Begging the question, 'where do we go from here?' If the melodic finale of The 2nd Law serves as any indicator, a rendezvous with post-apocalyptic minimalism is unavoidable. It's not a groundbreaking notion, but that doesn't make it any less provocative.

The Bottle Room

Tucked between the bustling shops of Uptown Whittier, a few miles east of Los Angeles, is one of the county's premiere gastropubs: The Bottle Room. Chef and restauranteur Tony Alcazar opened the place up just over 3 years ago, inspired by his passion for good beer and good food. When those components collide, it inevitably results in an abundance of good people.  After meeting Tony and his staff last night during their very special Night With Russian River, I was bombarded by that trifecta of awesomeness. 

First of all: the beer. I could go on for days about how Pliny the Elder is the perfect pint of beer, but you already know that. Luckily, in Southern California there are a handful of places that dependably keep it on draft. So instead, I deemed it more pressing to progress to a few of their barrel-aged sours which are far more elusive: Temptation--the sour blonde, aged in French oak--and the real winner, Supplication--a sour brown ale aged in Pinot Noir barrels from Sonoma County. Its tempered tartness overwhelms my palate with the pleasant pungency of wild yeast. The slight tinge of wine, a delicate dancing partner for the tart candy flavor that makes my lips smack. I could literally never have enough of this beer. 

Turkey Burger with Russian River's Supplication

To accompany this delectable nectar, some food was in order. Tony earned his pedigree in the kitchen working at high-end gourmet restaurants throughout the region. His menu reflects this expertise, highlighted by all sorts of inventive dishes and robust medleys of flavor. As he was describing some of the food, a wave of panic swept over me as I realized that I couldn't come close to trying everything I wanted in just one visit. Mac and Cheese, Belgian beer battered onion rings, flatbreads laced with bacon pineapple and jalapeño? Chicken lollipops? I don't even know what those are, but of course I wanted them. Yet when I'm drinking good beer on tap, something in my gut always steers me to steer. After I saw one of his towering bacon cheeseburgers come out of the kitchen, I my dining selection suddenly seemed a forgone conclusion. But Tony complicated things for me considerably when he described the intricacies that went into his impossibly juicy Turkey Burger. A 60/40 blend of white meat and dark, it's doctored up with smoked bacon, aioli, melted swiss, marinated mushrooms and fresh avocado. Although I never thought I'd hear myself say these words: "I'll go with the Turkey Burger," I certainly don't regret having said it.

25th Anniversary Toronado Ale

I was even happier still when John, the manager, offered me a taste of a supremely limited edition Russian River offering: their 25th Anniversary Toronado Ale. This wild sour is a bottle-fermented blend of all sorts of exclusive, craft-minded deliciousness. Celebrating the quarter-century mark of one of San Francisco's most beloved beer bars, it hasn't really made it too far outside of the Bay Area and I was super lucky to catch a taste of it.

After meeting all sorts of friendly homebrewers, we took our drinks out to the front patio, adjacent to the cozy confines of Whittier's commercial epicenter. We exchanged stories of craft beers past and made promises to meet up again for a bevy of beer drinking in the near future. In fact, it was such a warm, pleasant vibe, that I was invited back to a nearby house party shortly after the woeful pangs of last call.  An evening of old favorites like beer and burgers could only be topped with the introduction of new friends.

It took me a long time of living in this area to make a trek to the lesser-traveled streets of Whittier. If it wasn't for Tony and his craftily conceived establishment, I might not have ever known what this town was all about. The Bottle Room was worth the journey and as an all-around experience it's one helluva destination.

Wicked Pissah

News from around New England:

Barbereggae

"I hate how much I love this clip..."

Deli Melee

Courtesy of Food Republic. Certainly nothing democratic about their comical culinary assertions.

File this under absurd. According to an article from the so-called Food Republic, Los Angeles can lay claim to better pastrami sandwiches than the Big Apple. 

I think I understand what's going on here. Since most people have never heard of the Food Republic, they need to say something inflammatory and utterly preposterous in order to generate the controversy that translates so fluidly into web traffic. I see what you're doing...and I LIKE IT! Just kidding, I abhor it. In other news: Des Moines, Iowa is home to the best arts scene in the country. And the best pizza. And the best beaches in the continental United States. Now let's sit back and watch the clicks rain down o'er me!

PS-- Sorry for the extended hiatus. The editorial staff at the RB has been on location gathering information on some of the most pressing issues of the day. Stay tuned for articles of actual significance (pictures of scantily clad models) throughout the rest of the summer. Politics are heating up--if sleaze and corruption counts as a form of convection--and general economic malaise continues to permeate the globe. Hey, there's even an Ebola outbreak currently ravaging Uganda that could threaten to spread to the U.S. 

So much calamity to write about, so little fucks for society to give.

Never Surrender...sang Corey Hart, before abruptly losing his career to the 90s

Ladies and Gentlemen: Bay 2 Breakers

If Ya Don't Know, Now Ya Know!

Life Would Suck Without Pink Floyd

That is all...