Man Crush of the Month...Every Pittsburgh Penguin

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Those Chipmunks Preach Bad Values

When the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie came out just before Christmas last winter, I went to go see it, primarily for nostalgic reasons. And, it looked awesome.

I used to watch the cartoon when I was a child, and it'd always help me to get into the Christmas spirit, something that is still extremely important to me. The movie definitely served this purpose, and I was amazed by the special effects that people can now use in movies, as I have been many times throughout the last five years, but there was one thing that really disturbed me about the storyline that I'd never really noticed before:

The chipmunks series promotes everything that is wrong in adolescent and teenage society, though most kids would not recognize it until they've aged a few years and have had to actually take care of themselves for a while.

Firstly, Simon gets no love. Simon is the nerdy one, or, to put it more accurately, the smart one. He doesn't get treated unfairly by Alvin or Theodore, but it's easy to see that he is the chipmunk that gest shunned the most from the limelight. In the movie and in the old animated cartoons Simon has the fewest speaking lines, and when he does say something, it's something smart or precautionary to the other chipmunks or their human friend, Dave.

It's weird, because Theodore, though adorable, is an absolute idiot as far as talking chipmunks go, which I guess isn't saying much, but you know what I mean. He's funny for the occasional cute comment or yearning for parental love, but other than that he's a chubby little guy with an alto voice that completes their musical trio.

Alvin might be even worse. Though by far the most incredibly hip chipmunk, you can tell that he's going to be the character that ends up in a bar for the rest of his life drinking Schlitz and talking about the glory days on the high school soccer team. Well, instead of high school sports, he'll be talking about his childhood recording contract. Basically, he'll turn out to be the chipmunk version of Jesse McCartney.

The most readily apparent trait of the show that verifies it's absurdity towards values is simply the title Alvin and the Chipmunks. If you saw an episode of the television show without words or the lettered labels on the fronts of the chipmunk's sweaters, you would immediately think that Dave was the character named Alvin. It'd be a logical assumption, since Dave is the only one of the four characters that is not, in fact, a fucking chipmunk. Not only that, but he is the main caretaker of the little guys. Without him , they would be straight fucked. They'd have no food or shelter, since their tree in the wilderness was cut down and they were brought to a shopping mall unknowingly as part of a Christmas tree. Furthermore, they would not have become teenage pop stars.

They would've just ended up like Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan if they hadn't had their forceful mothers. (Maybe not a bad thing now, but look back on the days of "Hit Me Baby One More Time," and Mean Girls. My childhood would have been empty of boner jam material without those two sex demons.)

I fear that if children get too into Alvin and the Chipmunks, they'll begin to take the things that their parents give them and contribute to their lives for granted. This is a grave matter.

It could've all been avoided if Dave would've just opened his damn mouth and asked for some recognition.

My First Totally Unneccessary Live Blog

Apparently, blogs are becoming quite the rage; more specifically, the live blog. The New York Times website constantly features live blogs of current events--usually presidential debates, or something in the political vein--so that people who can't see them for themselves (or, I guess, don't have a fucking television) can stay updated and in the action.

Some of my colleagues at The Behrend Beacon, our fledgling little weekly newspaper here in Erie, did a little political blogging on the campaign trail this week. They wrote numerous blurbs and posted YouTube clips of Bill Clinton and Barack Obama when they visited our campus, and my man Lenny even did his own little live blog of Obama's rally.

So, earlier today Ferg and I were tossing around some ideas to make tonight interesting, since our social lives and the scene at Behrend have not meshed (because there is no scene, and I apologize for even using the word "scene" in this context. I sound like I'm writing for Pitchfork Media) and we usually just throw down at my apartment. The first thing we talked about was a creation of our own videotaped power hour mix that would consist of us actually singing songs, something we are considerably bad at. Our second idea was to keep a live blog of our activities, and I haven't written anything for a while, so I decided to go with it.

Now, if you're reading this, chances are you don't give a baker's fuck about my social life or what I'm doing tonight, and that's absolutely fine; to be honest, you shouldn't care about me. Live your own life. But, I'm going to do it because maybe some friends of mine will enjoy it, it will be good practice for my internship (where I will apparently be writing a lot for the web), and because we're a few players short tonight. Many of our friends, and my girlfirend, are away at Penn State's main campus this weekend and will probably want to vicariously experience our carousals through this entry.

So, here she is.

March Madness Part 6

I've realized something. I don't like Memphis basketball. I've nothing against the university, or Coach John Calipari, or really any of the players (except Dozier, since he beat his girlfriend up, I guess), but I just don't like the way that they play. I frequently see them on television, since they're one of the best teams in the land, and I'm always rooting for them to lose, and I never gave it much thought until I started writing frequently about March Madness for an English project I'm doing (that's why all of them are on here, and also why they don't contain my usual amount of unneccessary curse words). I did some psychoanalysis and soul searching, and have finally gotten to the bottom of it.

I don't like Memphis basketball because I can't relate to them. They're the most insanely athletic team I've probably ever seen play, and I've never had any experience with that distinct advantage. Sure, I'm not athletic by any means--especially not in my college days--and I can't relate to most Division I basketball players, since I couldn't even make it through a season of Division III competition, but the athleticism of Memphis just seems so amplified to me, since they're above and beyond any other team out there.

When I played basketball, I couldn't run fast or jump high at all. I basically stood in the corner and threw up 3-pointers, and sometimes I was lucky enough to be playing a terribly slow defender, at which point I would drive to the hoop and usually get swatted by some tall dude with a seven foot wingspan. So, I love teams that have to use their heads to play and find ways to win without being so physically talented. I think that's why I liked Adam Morrison and J.J. Redick so much, because I could relate to their struggle and could really admire them for it. It sucked that year, though, since they were the best players in the college game, because my whole "unathletic" excuse lost a lot of its credibility.

Anyway, I'd like to see Memphis lose next weekend, preferably to a team that starts some really slow dudes that pride themselves on being able to touch the glass when they shoot a lay-up, even though they can't dunk.

March Madness Part 5

Well, I'm screwed. Just as I anticipated, my bracket is totally done, and had the nails put into its proverbial coffin on Thursday night when Tennessee, my pick for national champion, lost to Louisville in their Sweet 16 matchup.

I will not win any money this year, and furthermore, I probably won't even see any really good basketball games. The tournament snuffed out the last of my interest this afternoon when Davidson was finally knocked out of competition by Kansas, one of the four number one seeds that are still in the tournament, and will probably advance to the Final Four. It's frustrating, because nobody really wants to see that. People love a surprise, you know? When George Mason went on their little run a couple of years back, i saw so much green and yellow when I walked into school that I thought I was at a John Deere convention.

But no, there's nothing like that this year. Memphis, North Carolina, Kansas, and UCLA are all still in the tournament, and will probably win their first games next weekend. This is what's supposed to be expected, obviously, because if you're granted a number one seed you're supposed to be one of the best teams in the land, but it's pretty boring.

It's supposed to be March Madness, and there is absolutely no "madness" involved in any entertaining or surprising sense, but I am indeed mad.

March Madness Part 4

I saw a segment on SportsCenter today about West Virginia University and there newly founded hate for former football coach Richard Rodriguez, who left the team a few months ago for an unarguably better and more prominent job at Michigan University.

To be totally honest, it made me laugh. Not because what Rodriguez did was right--not that it was wrong either though--but because of the angle ESPN took on the story. They portrayed the whole thing as a backstabbing by Rodriguez that left the university absolutely in shambles, lamenting the loss of a coach that will probably destroy their entire football program for years to come. The Mountaineers had become (gasp!) nothing.

Until, of course, Bob Huggins came to the rescue. A Morgantown native that played his college baketball for the Mountaineers, a prodigal son, came home to lead the basketball team to a final four or even a national championship after form Mountaineers,John Beilein, left the team for...yes, Michigan.

They make Huggins seem like an absolute saint, which is what made me laugh and even get angry about the story.

A few years ago, Huggins was the coach of Cincinnati, but then he was dumped after being convicted of a DUI. (This was not your run-of-the-mill DUI, either. Rumor has it that the police report stated that night had puked all over the inside of his car door.)

Then, he was hired by Kansas State, and his name attracted a number of the nation's top high school recruits to come to Manhattan for their year or two of college ball. He coached one season for the Wildcats, persuaded Bill Walker to come play there and received commitments from O.J. Mayo and Michael Beasley, two of the best college freshmen in the land. (Actually, Beasley is the best college player. Period.)

Then, what did Huggins do to the team that gave him a second chance? He left them for the mountains of Morgantown.

So, my question is, how can you rip on someone like Rodriguez, and wax poetic about Huggins as a savior, when Huggins did the exact same thing?

March Madness Part 3

I'd have to say that one of the biggest surprises of the tournament so far is unarguably the success of Davidson, and that success is due largely to the performance of their standout shooting guard, Stephen Curry. He's put on an exhibition thus far in the tournament that aren't paralleled by anything I've ever seen in the tournament. (This may be because LeBron James and Kobe Bryant didn't go to college, but we'll call that irrelevant.)

Curry is barely six feet high, and probably weighs somewhere around 160-170 pounds, but scores at will, and I mean it. I know that this phrase is used rather liberally--usually by Bill Walton--but in this case it's actually true. I sat down with my brother yesterday to watch the game, and Curry did whatever he wanted to them on the offensive side of the court.

In the last three minutes of the game, he would jog slowly down the court, as if he hadn't a care in the world, and would wait for the Wildcats to start their half court offense. It wasn't a very complicated offense, and it went basically like this: pass or hand the ball off to Curry, and get the hell out of the way unless you were going to set a pick. Possession after possession, Curry made Jeremiah Rivers, Georgetown's defensive specialist, look like a complete idiot.

It got so bad that Rivers was eventually yanked from the game, while Curry remained on the court to make the rest of the team look totally bewildered and lost.

There were two consecutive possessions during which Curry especially impressed me. The game was tied at 70 when Curry got the ball and drove to make an absolutely ridiculous double-pump lay-up that you don't even see in video games, and especially not on the Hoyas' better-than-average big men.

On the ensuing posession, Curry got the ball just past halfcourt, took a few dribbles and shook Rivers out of his shorts with a behind the back before he pulled up in Patrick Ewing Jr.'s face to hit a three-pointer.

It was right around this time that I realized something. Stephen Curry is my age. He's a sophomore in college, and he's definitely smaller than I am; but he's out there doing these amazing things and is now the center of attention nationally.

And I'm writing a blog entry.