Here’s the thing: enterprising YouTube Hunter I am, I tried to interview Mr. Mann for the column. But Mr. Mann, turns out, doesn’t do interviews for That Phone Guy. Instead, you can ask him one question, and if he likes it and has the time, he will respond, as That Phone Guy, in a 30-second video. So, panda bears, watch the videos below, and then write in with a question you’d like That Phone Guy to answer. I’ll pick the best one and send it on to him. Hopefully he’ll knock a video out, and I’ll post it. It’ll be ours. If that happens, I might even be able to send you some Mental Floss schwag. But probably not, since I haven’t asked anybody at HQ about it.

And Mr. Mann, if you’re reading, let me take this opportunity to tell you how very handsome you are and that you are my better in most things.

It’s even more difficult to pack a wallop within the confines of an advertisement. For one, an ad is shorter. Also, you’re tasked with selling something. But Glazer glides easily into high art in this medium, too. Watch these three Guinness commercials and try to figure out how he does it (or disagree with me if you don’t think he pulls it off at all). I’ll share my guesses with you first: 1) Each commercial, though only a minute long, has a very clear narrative arc—beginning, middle, end. Lots of commercials don’t, or if they do, they seem hastily scraped together and meaningless. These are rich stories he’s telling, the kind you’d expect a Irishman to tell you after five Guinnesses, which, come to think of it, is the product he’s shilling. Funny how that works out. 2) He uses animals and mob scenes to set mood. The horses in the surfer video, the screaming dogs in the dreamer one, the crowd in the last—these images aren’t evocative of anything in the specific, but they stick. They seem primal somehow, almost ancient. Again, perfect notes to hit if you’re selling a famous and famously old beer. Art and commerce, baby. Glazer knows the alchemy.

More Glazer after the jump.

Anyway, there’s much more of his work to check out. His Palm Director’s Series DVD is a great place to start. But since I can’t buy you all a copy, I’ll end with his latest advertisement. It was filmed last summer and is for the Sony Bravia. It’s not his best work (because it doesn’t tell a story!), but it’s cool lookin’…

Oh wait, I do? You mean this wasn’t just a not-so-clever writing device meant to tweak your expectations? Awesome! Looky here:

Looks like I won’t have the opportunity to do that for at least seven more months. Take that…winter?

Here’s the 300 remix. Best use of “It’s Raining Men” since The Full Monty!

These guys might not have discernible workplace skills, but nobody can deny that they’re talented. And that they have badass post-shot stares. Icy.

And as much as I hate to say it, this video taking a virtual crap on Duke is genius. The “soccer mom at 19” line is particularly cutting.

Anyway, about Duke more generally: I was talking to a friend about the joy riots that were unleashed after Duke’s first-round loss in the NCAA Tournament. We noted that hatred towards the school—always high—had reached heretofore unreached levels, that it had hit the point where, in the ever-finicky world of pop culture, there’s typically a backlash to the backlash. So, Backlash, wherever you’re hiding, it’s safe to come out now. Honest. We alums are waiting for ya.

Not to say that Tracy’s never gotten down. He’s developed quite a Page Six rap sheet, as well as a real one. He was also in How High. But what he’s done in the last few years has been ingenious: he’s completely erased the barrier between his real self and his comedic persona. The act never stops. This is different than when you talk about certain people, comedians especially, who are always “on.” That means they’re consciously trying to make you laugh, but that doesn’t mean they’re acting or performing a specific role. Tracy Morgan, at all times, is Tracy Jordan–and because of that, he’s become one of the least predictable–and most blisteringly excellent–performance artists since Andy Kaufman.

Although the writers of 30 Rock use him keenly, Tracy’s shtick is really honed for talk show appearances. It’s his clash with the phoniness of television’s “non-fiction” that works so well. Check out this morning show appearance in El Paso:

And this two part clip from Kimmel’s show:

As you can probably tell by now, dude can deliver a line. What inflection! Listen to him deliver the closing line in the ESPN commercial:

“The way I dunk on you is going to look unorthodox.” Come again?

What Kaufman had over Tracy is an assemblage of personae. Right now, Tracy’s only got one, and good as it is, it might not be able to sustain him that much longer. Gallagher only had one note, and although watermelon smashing had surprisingly long legs, where is he now? Tracy needs a second act. I hope he’s developing it. In the meantime, it’s probably best to watch this again:

This weekend, as you must’ve seen, and if you haven’t click here, Coulter shocked no one with her latest foray into clownery, effectively calling John Edwards a “faggot.” It was by no means the first time she’d suggested that a major Democratic figure was gay. She saddled Bill Clinton with that one last year, which led to this excellent Letterman bit:

(She also called Al Gore gay. But all in good fun!)

What’s curious to me about the woman Andrew Sullivan once nailed as a “drag queen fascist impersonator” isn’t that she keeps saying these things–nobody with functioning gray matter should be surprised at this point–it’s that she’s still allowed to be a part of the national discussion. Tim Hardaway, for one, went off on a nasty anti-gay tirade last week, and the NBA has since taken pains to ensure that he’ll never go anywhere near a microphone again. Jimmy the Greek faded away after his racist comments. Al Campanis, too. But why is it that Coulter can defame whomever she damn well pleases in the most audacious manner possible and still be given a seat at the table? I’m not being rhetorical here. Why? Drop your opinions in the comments section. My guesses include: 1) she’s too profitable a member of the publishing community; 2) political pundits essentially have tenure, making them impossible to dispose of (how else to explain David Brooks?); 3) there’s a serious attraction/repulsion thing going on in watching a tall, blond, and skinny woman rowdily spew hate speech.

Anyway–and I can’t believe I’m saying this–but we could all learn something from Adam Carolla:

Or from these two television reporters, who didn’t bow, Alan Colmes-style, to her harpiness:

And here is a pie in the face:

I understand there are more pressing and ethically muddied issues to take on, but when are we gonna pull the plug on this lady? I’ll admit, in the Clinton and early W. days, I respected her marketing savvy and used to think she was passably good entertainment–a comical counterpoint to the Franken/Moore left–but we’re no longer living in relatively happy-go-lucky boom days. Our world is sordid, scary–and far too serious for a contemptuous clown like Ann to hold sway over public opinion.

[Also, this is the first entry I've posted myself. I owe a huge thanks to Mary and Winslow, whose lives I made miserable once a week for the last eight months.]

And so is this video, created by the unlikely—and largely unfunny–internet sensation Liam Sullivan:


Here’s the first clip that comes up when you type “funny” into YouTube’s search. And here’s the first thing you need to know about it: unless you’re a 37 year-old divorcee or the type of person who really loves Family Circus, you are not going to find it the slightest bit funny:

If human misery is more your speed, these two should do the trick:

[Hat tip to reader DDW for those two clips, and for the hole in my heart that festers more with each moment we’re apart.]

[Actually, reader DDW is just my roommate. Pretty good guy. I’ll probably see him when I get home from work tonight.]

And, finally, a wonderful bit of collegiate humor from Dartmouth. This might be one of the best stunts ever perpetrated on a college campus. Three cheers for these guys. Honestly.

(A sympathetic friend said that she was just trying to poke fun at Oprah in the clip. My friend is also Krazy. He enjoys Cocoa Pebbles.)

Here’s a little more off-the-cuff Tyra Krazy:


And here’s a slightly humorous compilation video of her not altogether sane behavior (beware: the “Imma Cut You” line is vaguely racist):

Anyway, all this televised insanity got me thinking beyond The Tyra Banks Show. She can’t be the only one in front of the red light who hasn’t the slightest hold on sanity, and surely she’s not. Enjoy this other batch of televised mixed nuts:

I’ll end with a viewer comment to the Marino clip. It’s non-grammatical, but it’s insightful, and, in a better world, might even apply to our Vaseline-bedazzled Ms. Banks: “Thats a caged beast right there, that what happens when you take a warrior and put them at a desk.”

Think about it…

For the uninitiated, a man-crush (n.) occurs, according to UrbanDictionary.com, which has clearly supplanted Merriam Webster as the language officiator par excellence, “when a straight man has a ‘crush’ on another man, not sexual but kind of idolizing him.” Is that definition grammatically correct? Absolutely not. But the idea’s there. Anyway, although it’s dangerous to select a man-crush who isn’t terribly well-known since it implies time idly spent daydreaming about the subject (which I haven’t!), I’ll just out and say it: Damon Albarn is my #1. Yes, he’s best known as the lead singer of Blur, who I don’t even like that much, but he’s so much more. So. Much. More.

He wrote one of the best breakup songs of the last 10 years, he has pushed himself from a certain Britpop fade-out to a multi-dimensional and fully adult musical force, and most in line with this column’s purposes, he brainchilded Gorillaz, the best animated rock band in the history of history. (And, uh, not to get all MySpace-y on you, he’s got an inimitable coolness and I like the way he looks, but such that it’s “not sexual but kind of idolizing.” It’s possible, and not nearly as fine a distinction as you might think. Really.) (I feel weird.) Okay, enough of that. In honor of Mr. Albarn, and in protest of the Super Bowl’s unfortunate homophobic streak, a celebration of the Gorillaz, starting with the “19-2000″ video. Like everything Gorillaz, it’s animated and there are high jinks:

Whereas the “19-2000″ video is straight titillation, this one, for the Grammy Award-winning “Feel Good Inc.,” is laced with an undercurrent of menace. The human face in the middle of the cartoon suggests a certain, perhaps NSA-inspired, overlord quality. Am I being paranoid? Check this:  

Two more videos for you, both live. The “Clint Eastwood” one is from their first (of two) tours, and the graphics created by Jamie Hewlett are truly mind-blowing. With the possible exception of The Polyphonic Spree,  there isn’t a more imaginative live act in music right now. (Sorry Flaming Lips…excess does not equal inspiration, which, coincidentally, was what my fortune cookie said last night. Between the sheets.)

Clint Eastwood (sorry unable to embed)

This last clip, a live version of “O Green World” from their second (of two) tours, is also wonderful, although please note the difference in stage set-up this go-around. More emphasis on the musicians, and the cartoon aspect focuses more on story-telling than instrument-playing.  

As you’re probably aware, there’s a lot more Gorillaz on YouTube if you’re interested, and the material is certainly worth frittering away a lunch hour on. But I’d like to hear from you, too. Any man-crushes out there? Ladies, any fem-crushes? And so I’m not being hetero-normative: gay men, do you have fem-crushes? Lesbians, man-crushes? Can YouTube clips enhance your case? If so, hit the comments section hard, panda bears. Only through open, same-sex-crush discussion can we combat the damage done by Super Bowl advertisers. 92 million watched the game. About 92 people read this column. Even the longest journey starts with a first step. Or something.

Don’t try to talk to me about anything else right now, because you, friend, will be rebuffed. Two months back, I bought tickets to see the Lakers play the Knicks at Madison Square Garden. My beloved Lake Show makes it to NYC but once a year, and I was looking forward to Kobe dropping at least 60 on the lowly Knicks, maybe even breaking Jamal Crawford’s spindly little ankles. I could brag to friends and blog readers that I was there. Men would want to be me, ladies would want to be with me, and etc. Well, turns out, Kobe just got saddled with a one-game suspension for a totally nothing elbow throw against noted foreigner Manu Ginobli. What does that mean? More Smush Parker than I can get my hands on. Know what that feels like? Something like this:

Kobe’s personally appealing the suspension to commissioner David Stern right now, and if history is an indication. Stern will probably let him play, because, haven’t you heard, the NBA is totally rigged. Anyway, even if some people disagree, here’s hoping that it’ll be rigged just for one night—these are the NBA’s top two markets after all!—so I can get my Kobe fix. In case he doesn’t play, here’s some assorted Kobe excellence.

This is what I feel like doing right now, except not to Kobe:

This one is the most famous of the stupid crook YouTubes. There are many different versions of this video including one that’s more than borderline racist

–but I like this one the best for its subtitles, which are undoubtedly accurate:

And look at this guy who doesn’t know the difference between pushing and pulling. Oh sweet petunia stank, this is awesome!


Here’s another suspect the police didn’t have trouble finding, and for added enjoyment the narrator of this piece is Trace Gallagher, my favorite of the Fox News anchors because a) that can’t be his real name, and b) he bears an uncanny resemblance to Kent Brockman

This doesn’t fit the strict definition of a dumb criminal video, but it’s nicely weird:

Anyway, if you know of any other excellent such vids, post ‘em in the comments section. And before you go, on a semi-related note, let me leave you with one of the best videos to get put on near constant rotation on The Box in the late 90s: