“Fox & Friends” on The Daily Caller

What an awesome week for all kinds of crazy. If aliens had landed on our planet, they would have watched as: the world’s most celebrated movie stars snored through a bizarre, seventeen-hour interpretive dance at the Oscars; Rep. Patrick Kennedy lost his effing mind on the House floor; Glenn Beck and Eric Massa out-crazied each other over some exotic birth ritual called “kill the old guy;” and a Pennsylvania woman opened a dating service for lonely jihadists. Slip into a straight jacket and follow me into this padded room, Crazy, because you just had the best week ever! (more)

Big news is, I finished and turned in my graduate thesis this week. It took me six years, which is twice as many as I spent in college. If I could drink New York City and live to tell about it, I would. (more)

Every day, someone sends me a puzzling e-mail in which he tells me what he’s had for breakfast. And it’s not within the context of a larger narrative, or because I’ve asked him what he eats for breakfast, or to agitate some kind of Hegelian dialectic—nor is it particularly friendly. It’s simply declarative: “Today I had a corn muffin.” Or, “Today I had a Spanish Omelet.” I’m not sure if this is his attempt at engaging me—does he want to know what I had for breakfast? Or if it’s just his way of documenting his eating habits. In any case, it just isn’t the kind of information with which I can do anything of real consequence. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, I keep them all. (more)

It’s been an excruciatingly long week. It began with the Daytona 500, where Tony had a less than stellar day and I spent an interminable 16-hour caution drinking with Andy Levy. For the rest of the week, I’ve been a shut-in, toiling away on my master’s thesis, due inexplicably soon, drowning in Durkheim and Freud and Geertz, reminding myself to eat and bathe, and assuring myself that any of this actually matters. I can sum up my fragile state of mind in one sentence: My mother wished me a happy birthday, and I said, “When is it?” (more)

I’ve been planning my trip to this year’s CPAC, and am mulling over the idea of greeting everyone I see there with an inappropriately enthusiastic high-five, just because. I share this with Rep. Thaddeus McCotter, and he suggests we modify it to a low-five instead. Even better. He’s right, as usual. (Read his “We The People” pamphlet, and see what I mean.) (more)

FRIDAY, JANUARY 29: Olbermann wrapped up last week by hosting a special non-”Countdown” presentation of the president’s unusual and combative appearance in front of the House Republican policy retreat in Baltimore. In the midst of the gushing two-hour special, the host praised the president’s belief “in a necessity of a real debate with an opposition, loyal or what-have-you,” which was curious, considering that the last time Olbermann himself engaged with an ideological opponent was back in 1964 when his guidance counselor gently suggested he rethink a career in television. (more)

I went to Massachusetts this weekend with a friend who wanted to get hypnotized to lose weight and quit smoking. (I will let you know how this works out, but I’m less than hopeful since in the days after he had three cigarettes, a 2.5 lb. lobster, and a fish-and-cheese sandwich. But my fingers are crossed.) Over the weekend, we went into a furniture store in Gloucester. Taped on the counter, the shop owner had a fake photograph of George W. Bush carrying a “Presidency for Dummies” book. I wanted to ask the woman if she knew her name and what year it was, but this seemed cruel. So instead I started singing a David Gray song really loudly as I walked through the store, driving out at least two customers who I think were considering buying something. (more)

My editor here told me months ago that writing a diary like this will help me remember my life. It sounded absurd, but it’s actually brilliant. I can’t remember how I got to work this morning – (Did I take a cab or the subway? Must have teleported) – so how will I remember what I was doing, thinking, feeling 10 years from now? Will I even care? Twitter and Facebook are reliable documentarians, yes, but we’re never as honest in a tweet or a Facebook note as we are in our diaries. (more)