Upsets Galore As Final Four Determined
I'm not sold on Jason Williams. Everyone says he's the hottest thing since Steve Francis, but when I watch the guy I can't help seeing the ghost of Kenny Anderson -- highly touted college point guard, consensus top 3 draft pick, eventual disappointment and borderline all-star. It's just this feeling I get, and it's not because Williams can't play. There's just something about his face that says perennially-traded eventual Portland Trailblazer to me, something much more Stephon Marbury than Isaiah Thomas. I can't explain it, but that's the way I feel.
The eXile's March Madness Worst Hack tournament is plowing ahead, and there were some upsets this week. Play for the coveted Final Four spots was not exactly spirited. In fact, one competitor managed to win without even being alive. In any case, here are the results:
Elliott vaporized the tournament's top seed before he even struck a single key. This contest was over the instant the mere decision was made in the Time offices to run last week's appalling cover story: "Can Bono Save The World?" The cover photo, republished here only with great reluctance by our staff, shows the revolting ex-Irish pop star in his familiar weight-of-the-world-on-my-shoulders Super Bowl halftime pose, flashing the stars-and-stripes lining of his leather jacket. This pompous gasbag asshole is constitutionally incapable of not making a spectacle of himself, even as he supposedly agitates for the world's poor. He wore yellow tinted sunglasses and the rest of his aging rock star costume to the World Economic Forum, for God's sake. Ask yourself seriously: why does anyone have to wear yellow tinted sunglasses to a goddamn economic forum? Answer: so that no one misses the fact that you're Bono.
Michael Elliott, Time, def. Dave Barry (1), Miami Herald
At the Superbowl, Bono dancing in front of a giant screen filled with scrolling lists of 9/11 victim names, preening and twisting with enough exquisite self-love to fill every seat in the stadium, winding up his performance with the world-weary sneer and the American flag jacket-lining. When he hit that pose, you could see him counting off the seconds to make sure the photographers got it. It was the ultimate marriage of self-pitying victim schlock and celebrity narcissism, mixed in with a big-time dose of shameless sucking up to America -- one of the most disgusting things ever to appear on television.
Elliott wrote this Time cover story. The inside headline read: "Right Man, Right Time: The debate on global poverty needed a bit of glamour. Bono supplied it." In the second paragraph, Elliott writes: "Call me a fan, but Bono stands out. In the past three years, in talking to politicians, aid workers, activists and United Nations and other development-bank officials, I have never heard a single suggestion that the U2 singer was involved with the plight of the world's poor for anything other than genuine concern."
The piece is a total blowjob, but it doesn't get any worse than that cover. That cover makes me want to fucking puke. Elliott makes Dave Barry a comic genius and moves into the Final Four.
Daniel Pearl, Wall Street Journal, def. David Sanger, New York Times
Hey, if Pearl wins this tournament, which severed half of his body do we throw the pie at? Do we throw it at his neck-stump? Har har har! See ya in the Final Four, stumpy!
Ronald Brownstein, Los Angeles Times, def. Bob Woodward and Daniel Balz, Washington Post
Almost nothing better exemplifies the cowardice and dishonesty of American journalists over the last decade or so than the amazing willingness of reporters to describe politicians who move to the center as "mavericks" and "risk-takers." It all started with Bill Clinton, and it came about as a result of the meeting of two extremely ugly phenomena: the ascendancy of the one-party system, and the irony disease. By the irony disease I mean the David Letterman humor, the movies with second-rate celebrities like O.J. Simpson and Robert Goulet in self-parodying roles, the TV ads in the nineties aimed at Gen-eXers that made fun of the fact that they were ads and sold products by saying, "You wouldn't listen to an ad, would you?"