Here's a nice, concise comment on last week's White House Aswim cover art, from Arse Poetica (funny name, too). Sometimes brevity is the soul of blog.

My inspiring father continues to write about the Roberts nomination, and a good thing, too.

And because I'm a gentleman, or would be if I were a man—and sometimes I wonder, given my inconvenient intolerance for Rules Girl–like behavior—I tip my hat in greeeting to my new colleague in New Yorker observation, I Hate The New Yorker, who, as my genial rival, has already pointed out a broken link. Ahoy there, comrade! Seems like an interesting, smart Pittsburghian, and perhaps someday we can have a friendly debate. Or, better, a Grease/Rebel Without a Cause drag race where he's Anthony Lane's second and I'm David Denby's. There's something really great about that scenario. Who would be the pneumatic, shopworn girl with the silk scarf who starts the race? Or the studly boy? Having recently immersed myself in much of the wonderfully wounding first/only season of Freaks and Geeks, I think I've got to say Nick Andopolis. We never really get over the sweet drummer-stoners.

And, whoa, speaking of which—I just noticed that I Hate the New Yorker has been watching F&G as well. Spooky. We're bound to see eye to eye on a few things, but I'll be spending some time under the hood of Greased Lightning, so I'm ready just in case there's a rumble.