James Joyner received spam* from the Kerry campaign. Hilarity ensues.

Brock’s post reminds me to share my (past) favorite name for Bellevue: “The God Complex.” But now I think I have a new favorite…

Tyler Cowen calls on Dan Drezner to self-assign p values to his fence-sitting. My gut feeling is that this approach would be ineffective; based on the cognitive psychology literature, I’d have to conclude that Dan is probably not the best judge of his own objective probabilities. Instead, I recommend employing content analysis of Dan’s posts to arrive at estimated p values at given points in time, or using a panel of raters, or some other more accurate technique.

Incidentally, the only p value I have a good handle on for myself is that p=1.00 that, on election night, I will be sitting with my undergraduate methods class at some venue with available libations making fun of Brokaw, Rather, and/or Jennings on the big-screen as they call (and uncall) states. Assuming the dean doesn’t put the kibosh on the short field trip, that is…

Dan Drezner is having trouble figuring out why Nicole Kidman is going through a bit of a dry spell on the dating scene. My working hypotheses:

• Men think she looks like Virginia Woolf when not wearing makeup.
• She’s too young for Russell Crowe.
• Her gaydar is broken (insert your own Tom Cruise joke here).

Update: Xrlq in comments points to this Kim du Toit post, which blames the drought on her previous association with Lenny Kravitz.

Apparently the use of cell phones, like everything else it seems (except khat), leads to reduced sperm counts in men.

Meanwhile, I can’t tell if Amber Taylor is upset that these inanimate objects are sexist in their effects or just interested in obtaining an inexpensive form of contraception.

Matt Stinson would support a constitutional amendment forbidding Britney Spears from getting married again. Apart from the unfairness of singling out Ms. Spears for constitutional opprobrium (surely, the violations perpetrated by Jennifer Lopez and Larry King are equally deplorable), conservatives—as opposed to libertarians—might legitimately be concerned that such an amendment would lead to widespread sympathy for Ms. Spears engaging in nonmarital* sex, and—if we are to believe the cited Mr. Sullivan’s views on same-sex marriage—increased promiscuity by Ms. Spears and other individuals prohibited from the benefits of legal marriage.

On a more legalistic level, one might be concerned that such an amendment amounts to a bill of attainder and deprives Ms. Spears of equal protection (particularly if Ms. Spears is subjected to some nonmarital abuse), although it is unclear whether a constitutional amendment can be unconstitutional in its own right; an amendment reducing or increasing the Senate representation of any state in which Ms. Spears resides would clearly be unconstitutional, as would have any amendment passed in 1800 restricting someone from importing Ms. Spears as a slave, but these are clearly “corner cases” in the law. Such questions would no doubt lead to great controversy between the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals—which has jurisdiction over Nevada, undoubtably the site of any future Spears “marriage”—and the Supreme Court, inevitably leading to a further decline in public respect for both institutions.

Thus, and for reasons of good taste, I must decline Mr. Stinson’s implicit invitation to join his effort to amend the constitution. Nonetheless we should remain vigilant that the institution of marriage remain the sacrosanct cornerstone of American society. Or at least retain the possibility that Ms. Spears might, eventually, come to her senses and marry the proprietor of this weblog.

Brian J. Noggle has figured out how Celine Dion came into existence. Cloning is involved.

Over at Fafblog, Giblets explains the god of ceremonial deism, the god we invoke in pledges, in oaths, and on currency:

This God is a fitting adornment for oaths and flags and coins. Especially coins! Ceremonial God blesses your divine use of a slot machine with every quarter you feverishly insert. He marks His glory upon every dollar bill you stuff into the g-string of an aging lap dancer. He is the God of Coke and Pepsi, the all-embracing deity of McDonalds and Wal-Mart. All are one in His commercial bounty.

Giblets longs for a day when God will proudly stand out not just on money, monuments, plaques, greeting cards, university mottos, bumper stickers, action figures and gun shows, but on everything from hamburger wrappers to beer to car insurance. Giblets had a Big Mac dripping with special sauce yesterday, and he thought “Is this special sauce godless, commie special sauce? Or is it All-American, True-Blue, Under God special sauce?” And the sad thing is my friends that Giblets did not know, because it did not say on the box.

Avril Lavigne, on Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit (a band name that seems oddly appropriate in light of this account):

“I mentioned to Fred that I was hungry, like, ‘I want an In-N-Out burger.’ “He had someone go out and get me a whole box of them, with fries. I was like, ‘Yeah!.’ Then he took a private jet out to one of my shows, expecting me to bang him. He was disappointed that I wouldn’t even go near him. He was a little pissed that I went to my room alone that night.”

That Fred’s one smooth dude, no?

Via Begging to Differ and Jeff Jarvis.

A direct quote from Peter Jennings, not more than one minute ago:

We’ve kept half an eye on the [hockey] game, but we’re very, very deeply involved in President Reagan’s death.

Sheesh, I knew the media was liberal, but I think that’s just going too far…

Matt Yglesias broadens his perspective with a trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, with the following observation:

I’ve been surprised to discover that southerners really do say “y’all” all the time.

Meanwhile, Kevin Drum discovers that people in different parts of the country refer to carbonated soft drinks by different names. There may be hope for John Kerry in flyover country yet…

Laura of Apartment 11D notes the downside of receiving an honorary doctorate:

What Jon Stewart didn’t know was that after receiving his honorary PhD, the Comedy Channel cut his salary to $45,000 a year, transferred him out of New York City to a small rural town in Pennsylvania, and forced him to grade 150 essays on “how a bill becomes a law.”

The wag might contribute:

• $45,000 a year? Where can I get that deal? (Though I did interview for the “small rural town in Pennsylvania” bit, and I certainly cannot complain about the salary I am getting in the fall, particularly for a non-tenure-track position.)
• His own bloody fault for assigning 150 students the same essay question. Mix it up a little!

Also of note: if you look at the photo, it looks like Dr. Stewart is wearing an olive green crew-neck T-shirt underneath his hood and gown. Classy.

Mark Lane of the Miami Herald urges everyone to support the Truth, Beauty, Decency, Cute Little Children and Free Beer for Everyone (with Proper ID) Act of 2004.

If I could add one amendment to the U.S. Constitution, it would be something like Article II, Section 17 of the Tennessee Constitution:

No bill shall become a law which embraces more than one subject, that subject to be expressed in the title. All acts which repeal, revive or amend former laws, shall recite in their caption, or otherwise, the title or substance of the law repealed, revived or amended.

Tennessee courts have struck down laws because of this Constitutional provision, notably the “toy towns” bill of 1997.

But I’d settle for a Constitutional provision forbidding the use of contrived acronyms in the titles of bills.

Some polling outfit made the mistake of calling James Joyner. Hilarity ensues.

This may be a good nominee for this year’s Darwin Awards: Diver in contest feared drowned. And this wasn’t any diving contest—it was a belly-flopping contest, at Diamond Jim’s bar in Beloit, Wisconsin.

The loss to society is immense, for not only did the unidentified 52-year-old man have “a heart of gold, a caring nature and a pleasant outlook on life,” he was also one of the few residents of Rock County who is certified to roast pigs. (Silly me didn’t realize pig-roasting required certification.) But I think the key to the story lies at the end:

His friend [the man who is presumed drowned] was planning on driving up to Reedsburg next weekend to roast a pig for a wedding reception and had asked Quaerna for directions.

“He’s originally from Mississippi. I don’t believe he had been that far north before,” Quaerna said.

What Quaerna doesn’t understand, is why his friend jumped from the bridge.

“He doesn’t know how to swim,” Quaerna said.

This story reminds me of nothing so much as the final track from Lewis Black’s first comedy album, The White Album (which also involved rednecks doing incredibly stupid things, only those rednecks were in Arkansas and ammunition was involved). Fun and amusement for the whole family!

Thanks to Scott for the link.

From CNN:

Judge deals blow to Bryant defense

Judges have been saying that their salaries are inadequate, but who would have thought a judge would stoop to dealing drugs?

UPDATE: Reader Xrlq emails to point out yet another reading of the headline:

Actually, when I first read the headline, I thought of a third meaning: this judge's deals aren't just kinda bad for Kobe. To his defense team, they blow.

Steven Taylor finds John Kerry discussing Vietnam in the oddest of places. My question: does the analogy make Cajuns “Charlie”?

Monty Python’s Life of Brian is being re-released to theaters.

Perhaps as a double-feature with Passion of the Christ?

Heidi Bond feels as if she is “being nibbled to death by cats.” Somehow that seems oddly appropriate given her running battle with Will Baude over the merits and demerits of ducks.

[Jack is having his mind rewritten by the repository of the Ancients, and in the meantime is filling out a crossword puzzle.]

Daniel: “Praclarush Taonas.” I think you wrote the name of the planet where we’ll find the Lost City in the crossword!
Jack (skeptical): Bit of a jump.
Daniel: Why else would you do that?
Sam: The clue for 7 down is “celestial body,” and he wrote “Uma Thurman.”
Jack: Yes.

Amanda is throwing her hat in the ring. I guess the question is: are we supposed to write “Hot Abercrombie Chick!” on the ballot? That seems vaguely embarrassing, although probably less so than voting for Nader…

It was only a matter of time until Juan Non-Volokh posted Rush lyrics in his “Sunday Song Lyric” series, and of course it was Rush’s Nietzschean anthem, “The Trees.”

Reading the lyrics, I’m remided of an old joke, which I’ve given an arboreal twist to fit the theme of the song.

Q: What’s the difference between a Southern Oak and a Northern Oak?

A: A Southern Oak doesn’t mind growing near Maples, as long they don’t get uppity. A Northern Oak doesn’t mind uppity Maples, as long as they don’t grow nearby.

Going off on a bit of a tangent, I’ve always thought that the Coolest Band Name Ever belonged to a band in my former home of Rochester, NY: the Pietzsche Nietzsches, pronounced “Peachy Neechies.”

Hei Lun takes apart a philosophical paper that argues that people should only listen to experts who share their ideological beliefs. (Let the grand de-linking begin!)

Matt Stinson looks at the importance of branding, drawing from his ongoing experiences in China. He also leaves off with this disturbing thought:

In the future, China will be the biggest market for PBR. This scares me more than anything else I’ve seen here.

Hey, it could be worse. It could be Schlitz…

Michael Jennings has uncovered a bit of a visual oxymoron over at TransportBlog.