The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #228
Harry EffronSubmit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon.
•Last week's results. •Rules and tips.

Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon.
•Last week's results. •Rules and tips.

Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon. (Limit 25 words per cap, five caps per person.)

WINNER
Caption: Can you ask the CFO to come in here with a mop, please?
Anti-Caption: "Ms. Wagner, I seem to have a nasty stomach bug....I just soiled my chair and the floor through my overalls. Can you ask the CFO to come in here with a mop, please?"-- m ham rant
HONORABLE MENTION
No Mr. Bond, I expect him to try. The bastard is standing there like a statue.--CRC
SUPER BOWL BONUS: al in la has left a comment for every Anti-Caption submitted last week. Click here to see for yourself!
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon.
•Last week's results. •Rules and tips.

Note: I will not be enforcing the 25 word limit, but if your caption is excessively long, I may just not read it. 5 entries per person.
First Place:
"Here's the shopping list...I'm late for work. Gimme a kiss -- And GET YOUR BARE ASS OFF THE COUNTER TOP -- we cook food there! Jeez..." -- m hartman
Second Place:
"Here's that sample of the wall color you asked for...oh and you have cancer" -- The shark
Third Place:
"Doof deeef ffeexxil plexil booot glepglop feemie" -- Those Fuckers
Honorable Mention:
"You have a benign tumor on your occipital lobe. We're planning a non-invasive laser procedure that will shrink the tumor and return your eyes to normal." -- Beth
"Your transgender process is almost complete, Pat. however, since most of your chart is gone, remind me which direction we're going again." -- LV
"Take me to your litre of urine." -- Rob
"I cheated on my MCATs" -- Gretchen
"Now Mr. Jones, if you could just get down from the table and put on your pants, we can get started with your dental checkup." -- Snooki N. Tish
"I understand it seems a bit odd for census-taking, but may I please have a sample of your stool?" -- Tim H
"What the fuck is wrong with your face??" -- johnnyo
The "I'm a regular here, see!?!" award:
"No Mr. Bond, I expect you to have a stye."
"The homo sapiens here are not what they seem."
"Facsimile, you crazy bastard. How are you?" --NAMBY
Friends, it has come to this.
Eight months ago, as radosh.net began to creak into senescence, I explained why I'd do my best to keep it alive rather than pull the plug and make the leap to Twitter.
While that explanation reflected the best information available to me at the time, the statement, as they say, is no longer operative. Among the many ways in which my personal situation has changed since then, I now have even less time than before for blog-length posts, and, perhaps more importantly, I have a new outlet for the kinds of things I used to blog about.
All of which is to say you can now find me on Twitter under the handle @danielradosh. (Some Czech guy with the first name Rados is squatting on @radosh, though I hope to wheedle it away from him eventually).
That doesn't mean I'm shutting down radosh.net. I'll leave the lights on here as long as al in la wants to keep running the anti-caption contest -- and every now and then my new co-bloggers and I may weigh in on something or other. For the most part, though, Twitter will be my new home for Huckapoo, self-censorship and Why Not Bill Keane updates, as well as anything else that can be squeezed into 140 characters.
I'd like to figure out a way to feed a Twitter group of radosh.net approved folks to this site, if only so it doesn't feel too empty here -- like when New York City painted colorful curtains and flowerpots on the boards they used to cover the windows in abandoned buildings. If anyone with time on their hands wants to help me do that (and maybe some other blog housekeeping) I'd be happy to
Be seeing you.
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon. (Maximum five entrys per person, 25 words per caption.)

Rules & Tips
WINNERS
FIRST PLACE
"Hi, wanna see my confetti impression?"-- TG Gibbon
HONORABLE MENTIONS
"No, Captain, Sullenberger, I'm not Kate Hudson and you can't 'ditch it' in me."--JohnnyB
"Oh, jeez. Another fucking moron to get arrested while they close down the goddam airport."--Glenn
"Remember me? I was on Comair CRJ-100. 49 of us died and you survived. I hope you're haunted by my face."--Yetta K
For additional Honorable Mentions and a Judge's Comment on all of the winning entries, visit al in la's blog..
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon. (Maximum five entrys per person, 25 words per caption.)

WINNER
"How long am I expected to stay at Flight Delay Training Camp before you let me go to the airport?"--RichardH
.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
"Is it Haiti in here, or is it just me?"-- Dex
.
"The aliens left only the 27 of us alive. Somebody fuck somebody with working ovaries."--Glenn
"As Moses' attorney I implore you to let his people go...or at least go to the bathroom."-- Rob
"Worst. Orgy. Ever." --Austin D
NOTE: For additional Honorable Mentions (including Anti-Judge Anti-Captons) and Judge's Comments on all the winning entrys go here.
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon

WINNER
"Because they Need Another Seven Astronauts really fast...THAT'S why!" -- dwilk
HONORABLE MENTIONS
"No Mr. Bond. I Expect you to dry." --NAMBY
"It's a Westinghouse, so I'm westing. Not the others, though. They've been hacked to death by some maniac."--Steve_O
For additional Honorable Mentions, Judge's Comments on all of the winners AND other jokes relating to the 1986 Challenger disaster go here.
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon.
•Last week's results. •Rules and tips.

First Place:
"Can't ... breathe ..." -- Charles
Second Place:
"Honey, maybe you should see a doctor. Your eyes are bigger than my tits." -- J.D.
Third Place:
"I can't figure out where my asshole is." -- David
Honorable Mention:
"Fuck you and your sweater vest. Stop being such a cheapskate and turn up the thermostat." -- A. Jorgensen
"The doctor with the shadow puppets said it's supposed to smell like fish." -- mike
"Honey, don't you see? One tit in the last issue, my luscious breasts in this issue. By next week, the readers will be ready for some camel toe, and it won't be long until the readers will expect nothing less than graphic girl-on-girl lovin and hair-tearing all-nude catfights!" -- Barb
"Fuck the rules! This week, I'm showing my tits in the New Yorker and submitting more than 5 captions to the anti-caption contest." -- mypalmike
Suck up to the judge award:
"The whore here is piscine." -- J.D.
The "Fuck the rules!" / "50th time's the charm" award:
"I'm getting tired of the same old routine, Yuvie. You read, I show my tits, and morons propose clever captions and anti-captions until some deadline passes. How about we take a stance...end it right now...shake things up: LET'S GO ANAL TONIGHT!!!!" -- m hartman
(but seriously, 5 entry limit.)
Lest you all think I'm a total Grinch when it comes to holiday music, I thought I'd share a few songs that have caught my ear over the last week or two.
It's Christmas So We'll Stop. I'd never heard of Frightened Rabbit before coming across this song on the All Songs Considered Holiday Music Mix earlier this week, but I've probably listened to this song about a dozen times since then. A bit melancholy, but still beautiful.
I Wish It Was Christmas Today. I don't have any fond memories of the original SNL version of this song, but Julian Casablancas and the Roots make it rock.
Christmastime for the Jews. Another SNL song I missed the first time around. Cute animation, some good jokes, and the still-amazing voice of Darlene Love. Plus it's much better than what Jews used to do on Nittel Nacht. (Hulu's giving me some errors on embedding this, so if there's no video below, just click here for the song.)
Little Drummer Boy. One of my least favorite traditionals – almost nobody can sing "pa rum pum pum pum" without sounding like an idiot – but any pairing of David Bowie and Bing Crosby is too incredible to miss out on. Bing was 74, and died just a month after taping this, but you'd never know it from his voice.
Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating, and Happy Friday to everyone else.
Ilya Somin at volokh.com has an interesting analysis – via a Freakonomics post – of why it made sense for Han Solo to join the Rebellion against the Empire, but why it rarely makes sense for citizens of real totalitarian states to do the same. The important difference? "Marrying a princess and becoming a general are not likely outcomes for your average potential North Korean or Iranian dissident."
I generally agree with his analysis of real-world situations, but my own view of the Star Wars situtation, which I offered in a comment on Ilya's post, is that the entire analysis is moot. Han has already become a member of the Rebellion as far as the Empire is concerned, so his dilemma is not whether he should fight – to ensure that the Rebellion will protect him from the Empire, he really has no choice but to fight with them – but how to do so in a way that maximizes his value to the Rebellion.
(While reading the original posts, please remember that any comments that refer to Episodes I - III should be ignored, as those movies don't really exist.)
32-year-old Brittany Murphy died this weekend. Probably best known for her role in Clueless and her 12-year gig voicing Luanne on King of the Hill, she also starred with Ashton Kutcher in Just Married. And how did Kutcher memorialize his co-star on Twitter? Like this, of course:
"2day the world lost a little piece of sunshine, my deepest condolences go out 2 Brittany's family."
Ugh. Please, celebrities, unless you're a 14-year-old girl starring in a Nick at Night sitcom, don't do this.
At the risk of being pegged as "that new guy who cares way too much about holiday music," I have a few follow-ups to last week's post.
Thanks to the encouragement he received from people who are either tone deaf or evil, Orrin Hatch is hoping to ruin other Jewish holidays in song, starting with Purim. I'm not that troubled by this, since few gentiles have any idea of what – or even when – Purim is, and all good Jews, following the dictates of the Talmud, will be too drunk to care. [The actual commandment is "to make oneself fragrant [with wine] on Purim until one cannot tell the difference between 'arur Haman' (cursed be Haman) and 'barukh Mordekhai' (blessed be Mordecai)." And if you can't tell those two statements apart, you're certainly not going to notice Orrin Hatch singing in the background.]
But Hatch isn't the only Christian with musical gifts for the Jews. Garrison Keillor has his own suggestion for a New Year's song:
Grab your loafers,
Come along if you wanna,
And we'll blow that shofar
For Rosh Hashanah"
If Ben Stiller still had his variety show I'm sure he'd be dressing up as Bruce Springsteen and belting that out to the tune of Born to Run on the very next episode. Or not, because bloggers and tweeters across the country are up in arms about this, though that may have more to do with the context surrounding those lyrics:
Unitarians listen to the Inner Voice and so they have no creed that they all stand up and recite in unison, and that's their perfect right, but it is wrong, wrong, wrong to rewrite "Silent Night." If you don't believe Jesus was God, OK, go write your own damn "Silent Night" and leave ours alone. This is spiritual piracy and cultural elitism and we Christians have stood for it long enough. And all those lousy holiday songs by Jewish guys that trash up the malls every year, Rudolph and the chestnuts and the rest of that dreck. Did one of our guys write "Grab your loafers, come along if you wanna, and we'll blow that shofar for Rosh Hashanah"? No, we didn't.
I'm on record as agreeing that most of the Christmas songs out there are dreck, but the chatter is not about defending the songs, but rather about defending the Jews. It's possible that Keillor actually does hate NPR listeners Jews, but I don't see it in that paragraph. Keillor's pretty much a crank in these essays, and this is a pretty tame comment compared to what he has to say about Unitarians, who have found far fewer defenders online. [It's worth noting that the Unitarian translation he objects to dates to the 1870s, which means the song is even older than Keillor is. Also, while many Unitarians are Jewish, the church does have some Christian members.]
In fact, the whole piece reads as a joke that doesn't quite work. Even more than most defense-of-Christmas screeds, Keillor's piece is muddled on exactly what the threat is or what we should be defending. Is he seriously arguing that gingerbread cookies are intrinsically connected with the birth of his savior, while a yule log and caroling are abominations that threaten the entire season? I know the man had a stroke, but he's still too sharp to actually believe that logic.
Finally, for those of you do like having songs rewritten, check out Rachel Sklar as "Lady Jew-Ga" singing Bad Shiksa. Sklar's costume is a little too demure compared to what Gaga herself wears in the video, but at least this atones for the fact that it's been almost a year since this site has had a photo of Rachel Sklar.
"Despite wealth estimated at $600 million, Disney remained shy and outwardly unpretentious, according to people who knew him. His main indulgences were a castle in Ireland, a jet, sports cars and financing a passion for sailboat racing." -- LA Times obituary of Roy Disney
(Via Jesse Oxfeld)
From the Fake AP Stylebook (which gives better writing advice than the real one):
Go ahead and use "shit" in your articles. Anyone really still offended by it can go back to Happy Candy Bear Island.
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon
Rules and Tips

WINNERS
(NOTE: For an Extended list of Honorable Mentions including Judge's Commentary on each winning Anti-Cap go here.)
First Place
He's temperamental, but he makes an awesome tit and testicle chowder.--
Jim Cavanaugh
Honorable Mentions
"This madhouse is a real kitchen."--Francis
Ghost of Christmas Future: "This is what will happen to your restaurant after you cut labor by twenty percent and forged invoices, Ebenezer."--Grant
"Tisch School of the Arts graduates make great wait staff, *never* kitchen staff."--J.D.
.
Ah, December, that magical month when normally pleasant-looking building are hidden behind garish holiday Christmas decorations, slow-moving tourists and shoppers clog the streets, and you can't turn on the radio or enter a store without hearing the same dozen Christmas holiday songs on endless repeat. True, some of these songs are quite catchy, but it is asking too much to hear something new? The most recent addition to the holiday canon is Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas Is You, and that's 15 years old now. It seems unlikely that a new tune will ever be added into the rotation.
And yet, every year artists across the musical spectrum release more holiday albums, confident that, even if these songs will have no lasting impact on the culture, they will at least make some money. This year's more interesting options include Chirstmas In the Heart, Bob Dylan's much-discussed benefit album; A Cherry Cherry Christmas, a mix of reissues and new releases in which Neil Diamond tries to erase all the goodwill he built up with his recent Rick Rubin-produced albums; Joy To the World: A Bluegrass Christmas, one of those releases where the title tells you everything you need to know; If On a Winter's Night, Sting's take on old English carols; and Midwinter Graces in which Tori Amos abandons her attraction to sin in favor of some reimagined carols.
And yet, as artists like these search ever more desperately and futilely for some new take on Christmas song – the Bluegrass Christmas is one of over a dozen such albums from the last decade alone – with the exception of Diamond's cover of Adam Sandler's Chanukah Song, they continue to ignore the open field that is Hanukkah music. Is there no hope for this holiday that owes its prominence solely so that Jewish children can get some presents in December? Is there not one of us who will come forward to save future generations from having to rely on the Dreidel Song as the token Hanukkah entry thrown in among the standard noels? (Novelty songs, like the LeeVee's Hanukkah Rocks don't count.)
Or perhaps, since it was Jewish songwriters who created the Christmas classics, some nice goyim will come along and bless us with a nice Hanukkah song? Well, our prayers have been answered, in the form of Senator Orrin Hatch who has written – though thankfully does not sing – a new song titled "Eight Days of Hanukkah."
Eight Days of Hanukkah from Tablet Magazine on Vimeo.
The Times describes this as "A Senator's Gift to the Jews, Nonreturnable" – which leaves open the hope that we might find a way to regift it – but it's more than that, as Jonah Jeffrey [Oops - Ed.] Goldberg notes in the article that introduces this musical shonda to the world:
"Hatch said he hoped his song would be understood not only as a gift to the Jewish people but that it would help bring secular Jews to a better understanding of their own holiday. "I know a lot of Jewish people that don't know what Hanukkah means," he said. Jewish people, he said, should "take a look at it and realize the miracle that's being commemorated here. It's more than a miracle; it's the solidification of the Jewish people."
That's one interpretation. Another, that Goldberg addresses, is that Hanukkah commemorates the victory of religious zealots over liberal reformers:
One of contradictions of Hanukkah—an unexplored contradiction in our culture's anodyne understanding of the holiday—is that the Maccabee brothers were fighting not for the principle of religious freedom but only for their own particular religion's freedom. Their understanding of liberty did not extend even—or especially—to the Hellenized Jews of Israel's coastal plains. The Maccabees were rough Jews from the hill country of Judea. They would be amused, if they were capable of amusement, to learn that their revolt would one day be remembered as a struggle for a universal civil right.
But not knowing all the details of the historical event that Hanukkah commemorates is different form not knowing what Hanukkah means; which is, of course, whatever you want it to mean. One of the many advantages Hanukkah has over Christmas is that we don't have millions of self-appointed experts and thousands of songs, movies and TV shows telling us how to properly observe the Festival of Lights. We are free to commemorate a great victory or merely note a minor miracle; to celebrate the Maccabees or to skip over their involvement; or – my preference – to just gather with friends and family to light some candles and eat and drink to excess. On second thought, we don't need any new Hanukkah songs; they'd only ruin the party.
One of the more annoying things about reading news online is when you come across one of those Time magazine articles that inserts contextually-generated links to other articles after every other paragraph.
Here are a couple of unexpected moments from an article headlined Study: Parents' Sex Talks With Kids Happening Too Late.

How better to understand body changes that occur during puberty than with these photos of Miley Cyrus? Thank you, Time.
Oh, by the way? Time's list of the top 10 teen idols of all time: Number one is Jonathan Brandis. You know, from Seaquest. James Dean is number seven.
But it get skeevier.

Well, see limited previews of those pictures, anyway. The actual pictures are membership only.
Submit the worst possible caption for this New Yorker cartoon.
•Last week's results. •Rules and tips.

First Place:
"Quit fucking around." -- Steve_O
Second Place:
"You're just a shadow of what you used to be, just like my wife." -- Rob
Third Place:
"Stop eating your own feces." --TG Gibbon
Honorable Mention:
"Christ, what a shadow." -- The Confidence Man
"If this is your non-verbal way of pointing out that I have the lights mounted on the wall of my office instead of the ceiling and yet, strangely, I cast no shadow at all, I take your point." -- Joshua
"Mr. Foo-Foo, you have a repetitive stress fracture consistent with scooping up field mice and bopping them on the head. A regimen of Ben Gay and ibuprofen should have you back at it in no time." -- Rich Lather
The New York Times, stalwart bastion of awkwardly fudging quotes to avoid profanity, just posted an article featuring, in its online incarnation, an interactive timeline of the history of cellular companies pretending that talking on the phone while you're driving isn't dangerous. I'm strongly in favor of spreading the gospel of not veering onto the sidewalk and smashing me through the window of a laundromat because somebody needed to check their messages in case their sister-in-law called to say what time to meet for dinner on Thursday, but I'm just as much in favor of accidental profanity from the Gray Lady. Click on "2006: Homemade PSA's" in the timeline, or just watch the video here. The s-bomb lands about 19 seconds in.