Today in Tundra Grifter News

According to data released by the research and monitoring group Guide Star, the Candie’s Foundation has paid Bristol Palin™ $262,000 to be their “abstinence ambassador.” The nonprofit Foundation and the Palin family attorney had no comment to the Associated Press.

[AP via SF Chronicle]

Are Candies clothes for the mentally deficient?

The reason I ask is because it seems like it is.

Even better:
But a closer examination of the tax form by ThinkProgress shows that the group disbursed only $35,000 in grants to actual teen pregnancy health and counseling clinics: $25,000 to the Mt. Sinai Adolescent Health Center and $10,000 to the National Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy.

Someone should pay me for abstaining from procreative intercourse. Look how good I am at it.

TJ/Lovely Boy In a Slideshow Of Egypt Protesters.

I admit, I looked at it at first because, well, lovely Egyptian boy. But I stayed for the “wow” factor. How many Americans would go through that for a political ideal?

I feel like I should make the picture on this post bigger, so that everybody gets the full effect of it.

@Tommmcatt is with Karin Marie on This One: This is why I married a Syrian Jew. They bring HOT to the table plus mjeddrah (what Esauh sold his birthright for. No, not Ahmed, but rice and beans. And also Ahmed.)

In answer to your other question… we have Jon Stewart.

Candies? Spike-heeled stripper shoes for adolescent girls? That Candies?

TJ/ The Boys of My Youth made me sad (or brought my sadness to the fore). Not being able to find another book by Jo Ann Beard made me sadder. Typing on my iPhone makes me despondent. Not being able to get to a library during my off hours –I don’t have the words.

@Mistress Cynica: Yup. That news has been out there for a year. Today’s news is the price.

Hey, Site Administrator! Word Press would like me to notify you that 3.3.1 (or some ole shit like that) is available. You’re welcome.

@JNOV is like, FUCK!: And until I find the time to confirm plug-in compatibility, we’ll be staying at the 3.0.5 rest stop.

Oh, and that upgrade notice appears on all the Admin pages. They really like to nag you.

@nojo: I figured as much. Just doing as I’m told for a change. Okay. Off to mope about something. Anything. Everything.

@JNOV is like, FUCK!: Just doing as I’m told for a change.

I’m an exiled Nigerian and I have a proposition for you.

Fuck this shite. I am in tears over this, a window into the past and my own people as they were then.

Mozart is in Berlin and goes to see his opera Die Entführung aus dem Serail in a production he hasn’t seen before. He’s about 28. This is a remembered account by Friederich Rochlitz, written 9 years after the event when Mozart was already 3 years dead:

When Mozart arrived in Berlin for the last time (after his second visit to Leipzig) it was already evening. Hardly had he alighted when he asked the waiter at the inn… who did not recognize him… “Is there any kind of music here this evening?”
“Oh yes, the German opera has just begun.”
“Really, what are they doing here today?”
“Die Entführung aus dem Serail.”
“Charming,” exclaimed Mozart, laughing.
“Yes,” the fellow continued, “it is a pretty play. Composed by… now what’s his name?”
In the meantime Mozart, in his traveling coat, had already left. He stood at the entrance to the parterre, intending to observe unnoticed. But soon he was too delighted with the performance of certain passages, too dissatisfied with some of the tempos, and the singers added too many Schnörkeleien (ornamental flourishes), as he called them. In short, his interest became increasingly lively and without realizing what he was doing he pushed closer and closer to the orchestra. Meanwhile he mumbled this, grumbled that and, softer or louder, until those standing near him, looking down on this homely little man in a plain overcoat, began to laugh at him—of which he was naturally unaware. Finally the performance reached Pedrillo’s aria Frisch zum Kampfe, frisch zum Streite. Either the management had an inaccurate score or someone had tried to make an improvement and had given the second violins, at the frequently repeated words nur ein feiger Tropf versant, D sharp instead of D natural. Here Mozart could no longer restrain himself. He cried out in plain language: “Damn it! Will you play D!”
Everyone looked around, including many of the players in the orchestra; some of the musicians recognized him, and now the news spread like wildfire through the orchestra and from there to the stage: Mozart is here! Some of the actors, especially dear Madame Henriette Baranius, who played Blonde, did not want to return to the stage. When the news reached the music director he repeated it, to the embarrassment of Mozart, who was now right behind him. In the twinkling of an eye Mozart was behind the wings. “Madame,” he said to her, “What is this nonsense? You have sung beautifully, beautifully, and so that you may sing even better I will personally rehearse the rôle with you.”

This is the best theatre story I know. Mozart: this homely little man in a plain overcoat. The musicians saying, Mozart is here! (There was no pit for the orchestra then, they were on main floor) And the singer too scared to come back out. I don’t know if civilians will get this story but it makes me weep with happiness.

@Benedick is not as stupid as he looks.: Diatonic stuff of Mozart’s repertoire would not have been ‘improved’ by adding or ignoring an accidental. It would have sounded like a cat being nailed to a telephone pole. Likely it was a manuscript copying error.

/File this under Weirdest Things I’ve Learned So Far in Busyness School/

In the 1950s, food manufacturers developed instant cake mixes which required nothing more than water. Sales were slow, however. Pillsbury commissioned in-depth interviews to discover the “hidden” motivations associated with baking. The conclusion: Women bake out of an unconscious desire to give birth. The oven is a dark, warm, moist, womblike environment, hence the phrase “a bun in the oven.” Two implications for Pillsbury: One, they modified their instant cake mix to require that housewives add an egg, a symbol of birth and fertility. Sales shot up. Two, the new spokesperson was a cuddly, infant-like character, the Dough-boy, who popped out of cakes like a newborn baby.

@¡Andrew!: Way to tie it back to the original post, slugger.

@Benedick is not as stupid as he looks.: Where were the singing villagers?

@SanFranLefty: The psychoanalytic analysis on baking behavior and its marketing implications is way more interesting than the next chapter on the Diaper Wars.

@¡Andrew!: That stuff fascinates the shit out of me…

My old classical station manager used to work at the big local AM station. They would run tape overnight, but he deliberately programmed skips into the recordings. Those occasional imperfections would convince listeners that the station was live, therefore fresh.

@nojo: This particular kind of marketing theory is really thought-provoking because it assumes that consumers make purchasing decisions (and I’ll bet voting decisions, too) based on internalized factors and subliminal motivations that they’re not even aware of. Like how that “rising sun” campaign logo from the 2008 presidential campaign looked like an open mouth, which later made everyone in the voting booths think of oral sex and slam down their fists on the Obama button.

I now can haz $100 million of Bamz’ hawt hawt hawt marketing cash? In single, non-sequentially numbered billz, pleez.

tj/Mad Men fun fact: Christina Hendricks voices Lois Lane in All Star Superman.

That, and Jon Hamm is in “Sucker Punch” (which is really not that bad).

@SanFranLefty: All righty, I did it, made the photo bigger (now it’s a little bit blurry). How y’all like dem apples?

@¡Andrew!: It’s because people want to feel like they’re still capable of doing something and/or it’s somewhat homemade. I have no other explanation for the popularity of rise-in-the-oven premade pizzas and whole rotisserie chickens. Pop either of them in the oven for 10 minutes and it’s like mom (or sometimes dad) made a home-cooked meal from scratch.

The birthing/womb analogies – that’s something I’m not even going to touch.

@¡Andrew!: I don’t think you need to go into porno ice cube territory to show that consumers aren’t strictly rational.

Nor need they be. It’s economists (and geeks) who operate on false presumptions.

It also seems that Candies paid Missy 7 times more than what it spent on teen pregnancies.

Heh – that’s like the old troll line, “If women weren’t supposed to be in the kitchen, why do they have milk and eggs inside of them?” :)

Nonsense – if that was the case, we’d have had widespread reports of Rs getting confused and shitting on the vote button…

@nojo: You know the proposition I want.

Okay, The Basketball Diaries. Jesus!

Are there any happy movies out there that are good? Romantic comedies don’t count; they always suck, except for that one where dude with the model ex-girlfriend who was caught with a hooker plays the British PM. That one was okay. He needs a new haircut.

@JNOV is like, FUCK!: “happy movies out there that are good?”

I’m a big fan of the works of Christopher Guest but I don’t know if those are “happy” movies. I liked Up a lot (dogs! lots of dogs!)

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