CSB Product Review: Fluorescent light bulb that replaces an incandescent one

I'm trying to do my part. I've been concerned about global warming, fossil-fuel depletion and dsaving engergy since I was around 10. I've watched our nation ignore science. I've DVR-ed "An Inconvenient Truth." I visited 18seconds.org.

I took matters into my own hands and bought a compact fluorescent light bulb. You know, one of those energy-saving fluorescent bulbs you can screw into the socket for an incandescent bulb. The packaging promises that it "Simulates Natural Sunlight" has an "Uplifting and Bright Light" that "Enhances Colors" [all sic].

I felt virtuous and good until I actually screwed it in and turned it on. Now, perhaps a superior brand to the, let's see ... Feit Electric brand "Daylight 60" 60-watt replacement bulb, using only 13 watts of energy, might perform a bit better. But I have to say I'm a tad disappointed in this one.

First impression: Well, it reminds me of when I was in Budapest and visited the the House of Terror museum, located in the former headquarters of the secret police under both the Arrow Cross and Communist regimes. I could imagine prisoners slowly rotting under this kind of light. Or possibly being interrogated beneath it. Until the Styles Section tells us that Dzerzhinsky Square-chic is the new hottness, I don't see these becoming a choice in lots of homes. I sure as hell am wondering where I'll put it in mine that doesn't have me reaching for vodka and Elliott Smith albums within five minutes of turning it on.

Which sucks because I already combat global warming by voting for Democrats, not driving and turning off the lights when I leave a room. I was hoping to take another step.

Damn. Maybe I'll put it in the closet.

Maybe some other time

The President was just on CNN, attempting to explain himself in re: The U.S. Attorney matter. He sounded like one of those people who gets all upset over something mundane when you're out at the bar, and works himself into a tizzy repeating arguments he heard elsewhere. Political points! Partisanship! Klieg lights! Bad precedent!

If I were at a bar with him, I would not have any interest in getting a beer with him. I would be very interested in paying my tab and leaving to join some people who could think for themselves and not act like everything is a direct affront to them individually.

CrimeNotes adds an addendum:

His performance today was awesomely insane, Bush-league Nixon, a freak-out of twitches, snarls, scoffing and stammering. He was a teenager incensed at being grounded for smashing up the car, a crackwhore without the crack. He acted the way I would act if someone made me wear a tux, made me stay up all night, brought me to a flower show, then took away my cigarettes: all restrained rage and blinding discomfort.

He's never been a public speaker. This was altogether different. He seemed unhinged, and he's about to provoke a Constitutional crisis.

Bring it on, you cheap dime-store hood.

Tournament of Everything: Round 2 Matchups

CLEVELAND REGION

Nullarbor Plain, Australia
1 The Internet vs. 9 Procrastination
5 Rushmore vs. 13 Caffeine

At Bushwood Country Club, Fla.
6 Kari Byron vs. 3 Muppets
10Prague vs. 2 HMQ2K25

ANN ARBOR REGION

At Hikone, Japan
1 Potable Water vs. 9 Loreley Beer Garden
6 Exile on Main Street vs. 3 Bob Dylan

At West Egg, N.Y.
5 Boogie Nights vs. 4 The Federal Reserve
10 All Things Considered vs. 2 Rose Bowl

INTERNATIONAL WATERS REGION

At Disputed Zone
1 The Sumerians vs. 8 Hungary
5 Winged Helmets vs. 4 The Industrial Revolution
At Macau
6 Eggs vs. 14 Jacques Cousteau
10 The Office vs. 2 Breasts

DEVILS LAKE, SOUTH DAKOTA, REGION

At Fiesole, Italy

1 Sistine Chapel vs. 8 Wikipedia
5 The Enlightenment vs. 4 Pint of Bass Ale

At Windhoek, Namibia
6 Summer F. Sanders vs. 14 Estes Kefauver
10 Contact Lenses vs. 2 Animal House

Tournament of Everything Round 1: International Waters Regional

At Disputed Zone

1 The Sumerians vs. 16 Paper Towels

It's obvious from the start that this one is a mismatch. The Sumerians invented writing, beer and the wheel. Do you enjoy any of those things? Find them indispensible? Thought so. In a world without paper towels, we'd have to clean up messes with real towels, increasing our laundry load. I think we'd all make do. Worst-case scenario, we could look to the Sumerians again, who were probably working on a papyrus towel when they were overrun by the Akkadians. If this blog were run by that one character from The Great Muppet Caper, I suppose this had a chance of being an upset. But here on Earth? No way. The Sumerians 121, Paper Towels 77

8 Hungary vs. 9 Monkeys Doing People Things

This is actually a matchup between two very similar teams. Consider: It once was run by an Admiral, despite having no navy or seaports. It once lost a war to Romania. And it nearly named a bridge for Chuck Norris. All of these are likely results if monkeys ran a country, it's true. But that said, Hungary has contributed more to the world than snickers in history class, paprika and goulash. For example, the Rubik's Cube, ballpoint pen and non-Euclidean geometry are all distinctly Hungarian inventions. As is, in a way, Attila the Hun, the bloodthirsty steppe badass who made Genghis Khan look like David Brent. While Monkeys Doing People Things is always good for a laugh, Attila has no patience for your juvenile snickering. Silence! Lest you find yourself full of stab wounds and tossed in the Danube. Hungary 75, Monkeys Doing People Things 63.

5 Winged Helmets vs. 12 St. Patrick’s Day

Compelling matchup. On one hand, you have what I don't think is too much of an overstatement to call the sweetest helmet design ever. On the other, you have a holiday that celebrates beer, beef, nostalgia for college, and late-night sing-alongs of "Bitches Ain't Shit" and "The Jeffersons." Winged Helmets jumped out to an early lead, thanks to helmets previously worn by Tom Harmon and Tim Biakabutuka. But St. Patrick's Day countered with old photo albums and Yeats poems. But then Bo Schembechler sent in Charles Woodson's helmet came in as a defensive stopper, and all the soda bread in the world couldn't save St. Patrick's Day's corned beef and cabbage. It also didn't help the 12-seed that they had no depth because the bench players were vomiting, fighting and peeing in the Gatorade jug. Winged Helmets 97, St. Patrick's day 88.

4 The Industrial Revolution vs. 13 Jennifer Jason Leigh

It's the world's most industrious actress up against the Industrial Revolution itself. Lets check out some of the finest products of each and see how they compare, shall we?

• Amy Archer from The Hudsucker Proxy vs. the spinning jenny. Yes, it's nice to have cheap, mass-produced textiles now and then, but I'd gladly fashion a tunic from leaves and grasses in order to see Leigh's fast-talking Manhattan Argus reporter chew some more scenery with the dad from Frasier and the guy from the Old Spice commercials. Call me a dork, but that scene where she whistles and calls "Copy!" Yeah, that's hot. Jennifer Jason Leigh takes this matchup going away.
• Stacy Hamilton in Fast Times at Ridgemont High vs. the Watt Steam Engine. Let's see: One slept with Mike Damone. The other paved the way for increased coal mining, freed factories and mills from the need to be located on rivers and eventually led to steam-powered locomotives and ships. Hmm, closer than you'd think, considering. But this one goes to industry.

Now we go to the lightning round to settle this: Last Exit to Brooklyn, Rush, Single White Female and that one role in which she lost a ton of weight to play an anorexic girl for a freakin' TV movie against nightlife, the Romantic movement in literature, trains and the rise of leisure time that eventually led to such diversions as football and blogs. Maybe someday Jennifer Jason Leigh could change modern life as we know it. Until then: The Industrial Revolution 81, Jennifer Jason Leigh 65.

At Macau

6 Eggs vs. 11 Three’s Company Reruns

This might have been closer if Three's Company Reruns hadn't upset The Jeffersons in the conference tournament. But it's tough going up against eggs, an essential ingredient in pretty much any dessert or breakfast worth eating, as well as a staple food in almost every civilization. What? You thought Jack's Bistro was known for its creme brulee because Mr. Furley told all his friends? Not a chance _ it's because Chef Tripper knew his oeufs. Fish don't fry in the kitchen, beans don't burn on the grill, and Three's Company Reruns don't stand a chance against one of the culinary world's most versatile and tasty ingredients. Eggs 81, Three's Company Reruns 59.

3 YouTube vs. 14 Jacques Cousteau

Being able to have instant access to video of pretty much anything and everything is pretty cool, I guess. But Jacques Cousteau looked at the ocean and was like: "I wonder how cool it would be to be able to carry my own air around with me so I could swim like a fish or a seal?" Then he invented the aqualung so he could do it. Then he spent his life doing, well, just that. Extraordinary doesn't begin to describe it. Jacques Cousteau 88, YouTube 73.

7 Yankee Hotel Foxtrot vs. 10 The Office (UK)

Both of these were revelations for me in 2003, which makes this a much harder category to judge. Each one is a genre-best for me. I can think of only a few albums I've enjoyed more than Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which I received as a gift from a friend who figured _ quite rightly _ that I'd fall in love with it. Even secondary characters have a humanity, an essential human need for contact and attention that comes across beautifully. As for the main characters, the depth of feeling they can mine from the simplest gestures beats anything you'll find on TV right now. This may well be sacrilege, but the ensemble cast assembled by Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant can at times make the group on M*A*S*H look like cardboard cutouts. You want more praise? Fine: Gervais as David Brent is one of the all-time most hilariously absurd performances in TV history; the romance between Tim Canterbury and Dawn Tinsley is a study in gesture and longing. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is awesome, but I guess I appreciate TV more. The Office (UK) 72, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot 58.

2 Breasts vs. 15 Fear of Commitment

First of all, I would like to affirmatively state for the record that there is nothing wrong with Fear of Commitment. This is one of the all-time things that gets a bad rap, and I, for one, have had enough. Sure, it's the No. 1 grievance aired by women _ as long as such women are blonde helpmeets in some addle-brained sitcom, or sitting around the Yoplait, rhapsodizing about just which harmful stereotype their tub of bacteria-filled milk best enables them to fulfill. Fear of commitment means you take commitment seriously. You think Henry VIII was afraid of commitment? Fear of commitment means you're a sincere person who takes his or her word seriously. Fuck that. It's the people who aren't afraid of commitment that you don't want to wind up with. That said, how do you compete with breasts? Beats me. Breasts 78, Fear of Commitment 76.

The New York Sporting Scene

We interrupt this bloggy version of March Madness to bring you this mostly unrelated Cole Slaw Blog content ...

It's no secret on this blog that I'm originally from some other place. But I still consider New York to be a good sports town. I just don't care for, well, pretty much any of the local teams. I make two exceptions (and we're going to revisit this topic someday, you can be sure).

1. The Mets. Incompetent and likeable. I think of them as the fuckup cousin you see at family gatherings. They're great to get drunk with and have a blast doing ill-advised things. If the Mets were actual relatives, you would careen around empty fields in their Honda, take their boat out on the lake at one in the morning and possibly help them throw rotten apples at someone's house. And you'd love every minute of it, especially because you could bail at any second, mostly consequence-free. Mets games are awesome, until you get too invested and realize that your own life provides enough problems, and that bandwagons sometimes wind up in flames at the bottom of a ravine. I own a Mets hat.

2. The Islanders. Make all the Strong Island jokes you want. I watched the Islanders torture a friend and roommate for four years. My heart went out to him. This team exists apparently only to make the lives of its fans miserable. As a Cleveland fan, I can't help but sympathize _ the Islanders are like the 1987 Indians, the 1981 Cavaliers or ... well, basically every Browns team since 1999. Moving to Baltimore would be sweet, sweet release for the team's fans, and yet, they'd probably react the same way Browns fans did. You can't not like that kind of dedication. The Chris Simon thing is just icing on the cake. Cleveland should add Uniondale to its list of sister cities. There's no way things on the sporting scene can be as bad in Ljubljana, Miskolc or Taipei City.

Tournament of Everything Round 1: Ann Arbor Regional

At Hikone, Japan

1 Potable Water vs. 16 Getting a Haircut

Getting a haircut was miserable until I found my Italian barber shop, where the elderly barbers make fun of my conservative haircut and slam their elbows on my shoulder when my posture goes bad. Potable water, meanwhile, is arguably the most overrated seed in the tournament. Ever heard of coffee, tea, beer or wine, and wonder why they're so entrenched in European culture? Because before there was potable water, that's what people drank. Sure, they might have died early, but otherwise they did just fine. As the respective ascents of Poland Spring, Desani and indoor plumbing attest, potable water is overused, often expensive, and generally indespensible. Potable Water 66, Getting a Haircut 52.

8 Bohemian Beer Hall vs. 9 Loreley Beer Garden

About four years ago I went to Bohemian Beer Hall on a Saturday night. It was crowded but not excessive. I sat outside to talk with old friends and meet new ones, smoking cigarettes on a hot night, thinking about how it's never bad to drink outside, and generally loving life. By last summer, it had become the city's most intolerable drinking establishment. I was at a Czech beer garden with a long line outside and a clientele of ripe bastards, a cascade of the worst stereotypes of terms I avoid -- "hipster," "bridge and tunnel" -- and I-bankers, all in their early 20s, all thrown together, with horrible drunk sweaty women shouting into cell phones about how they didn't know where they were. I was never in a frat at Indiana University, but I got a feel for the experience. Maybe because Loreley is closer and more familiar, I associate it with slow drinking on Sunday afternoons and the occasional stray asscrack. Loreley on a weekend night is no joy, but even at its ugliest the pain does not approach that which one feels at the faded glory that once was Bohemian Beer Hall. Bohemian Beer Hall 48, Loreley 60.

6 Exile on Main Street vs. 11 Gilgamesh

The greatest album by the greatest rock band of all time also happens to be great party music. It's 2 a.m., everybody's wasted, somebody just cut himself on broken glass, and a drunk girl is crying in the corner: Exile provides a perfect blend of rocking enthusiasm with low-level sinister. Tomorrow you'll wake up to find a day that broke up your mind, but there's always time for one more. Meanwhile, nobody really likes Gilgamesh. It's one of the books that great books professors assigns out before we get to the good stuff in Homer and The Aeneid. First book ever written, foundation of Western Civilization -- blah blah blah. Ancient Mesopotamia is heavily represented in the Tournament of Everything. Gilgamesh fans will have to concentrate their support on the Sumerians, who land at the Number 1 seed in the International Waters Region bracket. Exile on Main Street 78, Gilgamesh 72.

3 Bob Dylan vs. 14 Foxhunting

Better duck down the alleyway
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the big black hunt cap
By the houndpen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got hens.

Bob Dylan 104, Foxhunting 63

At West Egg, N.Y.

5 Boogie Nights vs. 12 Rodin's "The Thinker"

You're not the boss of me, Rodin. You're not the king of CrimeNotes. I'm the boss of me. I'm the king of me. I'm CrimeNotes. I'm the star. It's my big dick and I say when we roll. I know fucking karate. You don't know what I can do! You don't know what I can do, what I'm gonna do, or what I'm gonna be! I'm good! I have good things and you don't know about! I'm gonna be something! I am! And don't fucking tell me I'm not!

Boogie Nights 81, Rodin's "The Thinker" 74

4 The Federal Reserve vs. 13 Daisy Buchanan

In my younger and more vulnerable years, Alan Greenspan gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

"In the absence of the gold standard," he said, "there is no way to protect savings from confiscation through inflation. There is no safe store of value."

He didn't say any more but we've always been unusually communicative in a reserved way and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as Alan Greenspan snobbishly suggested and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.

Alan Greenspan believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter -- tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms farther . . . . And one fine morning --

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

The Federal Reserve 64, Daisy Buchanan 61.

7 Eggs Benedict vs. 10 "All Things Considered"

Eggs Benedict is the cigarettes of breakfast menu items, not only because the hollandaise sauce is high in cholesterol but also because it's a breeding ground for bacteria. This is no joke. Do not order the eggs benedict unless you're confident that you're in a quality establishment. And yet -- so delicious. I will wake up early and go to brunch just to have eggs benedict. And then we have "All Things Considered." I stream NPR at work from the minute I get in until the moment that I leave. When "All Things Considered" comes on, I know that not only am I about to get a thorough and valuable recap of the day's news served up with the occasional feature story, but that the workday is about to end as well. It's the closest thing I have to a recess bell, and it's much more nutritious than eggs benedict.

Eggs Benedict 68, "All Things Considered" 80.

2 Rose Bowl vs. 15 East Village Idiot

The Tournament of Roses invented the bowl game, and while history must condemn that as more of a curse than a blessing, the Rose Bowl hangs, by the barest of threads, as a shadow-bastion of old timee, pre-commercial virtue. Like everything else in life, it has been severely tainted by the existence of the BCS, but it's impossible not to experience chills followed by mild seizure upon arriving in Pasadena, seeing the Rose Bowl logos everywhere, looking up to the mountains, and knowing that you've arrived in the holy land. East Village Idiot arrived to the Tournament of Everything only because it devised a March Madness-based tournament far superior to ours. Flop and I once met its author Chris at some blogger party, and although everybody was too drunk to remember much, he struck me as perfectly reasonable. Still, he's no Rose Bowl. Rose Bowl 104, East Village Idiot 66.

March 17

We had another kick-ass party.

Thanks to everybody for coming. In nine years of this party we've never had so many near-injuries (broken glass, rutabaga-tossing, violent wrestling, etc.) and the group sing-along to the Ben Folds cover of "Bitches Ain't Shit" was nothing short of magic. Cheers.

Round 1: Cleveland Region

At Nullarbor Plain, Australia

1 The Internet vs. 16 All Your Base Are Belong To Us

One was the new hottness of 1994. The other was the new hottness of 2001. But the All Your Base Are Belong To Us phenomenon was only possible because of the Internet. This is known as ownership. These 1 vs. 16 games are almost always bloodbaths, unless a plucky group of Ivy Leaguers catches a behemoth at the right time. This is not that time. The Internet 92, All Your Base Are Belong To Us 50.

8 Alton Brown vs. 9 Procrastination

I was always a bit of a precocious child. But when I found school too easy, rather than get all my work done and show everyone just how good all two of my shoes truly were, I chose to play fast and loose with my schoolwork. I'd wait until the last minute, then pull off a Spaceman Spiff-like three-point landing. As a result, my second-grade teacher recognized both my early faculty with the language and my crappy work habits and taught me the meaning of procrastination. Unfortunately for all involved, I took the word and the act and made them both part of my identity. I even had a college girlfriend tell me once "Oh, [Flop], you're always just fuckin' around." It's true. Why else would I have a blog that's ostensibly about cole slaw? It's not because I love to cook, although I do. I think Alton Brown is a genius and if I could, I'd quit my job, take the dog to Georgia and camp out on his porch until he agreed to take me on as an acolyte. Maybe someday. Procrastination 71, Alton Brown 70.

5 Rushmore vs.12 Roald Dahl

Come tournament time, some TV commentators, usually of the crusty, old and white sort, like to talk coaching. Fuck that though: It's the players who matter. Or in this case, the characters. Max Fisher. Danny, the Champion of the World. Herman Blume. Henry Sugar. Or one of the great, all-time unattainable love interests, Rosemary Cross. Of course, Miss Cross probably can't compete with Coach Dahl's big post player, the BFG. (Am I the only one waiting in vain for a college basketball player to have that nickname?) And I haven't even mentioned choclatier Charlie Bucket and his vast confectionery empire (take that, Slugworth). More to the point, Rushmore seems like the logical result when a Dahl-loving kid becomes a teenager. Missing parent? Check. Kid happy to create his own world to the exclusion of others? Check. Tension comes from a conflict between the childhood world and the adult world? You bet. Happy ending ... well, sort of. Dahl probably would have never ended a story like that, but hey. Max Fisher's all growns up. This is one of those unpleasant games in which the underdog outplays the higher seed and still loses. The real world's a bitch. Rushmore 67, Roald Dahl 62.

4 Mass Transit vs. 13 Caffeine

If, 5,000 years ago, some leaves had fallen into the boiling water of a Chinese peasant and a cheap method of getting people around town had resulted ... well, that would have been a hell of a thing. Tea, the actual result of that probably apocryphal incident wasn't bad either. It was a beverage that must have seemed magical at the time. You drank it, and you were suddenly more alive. It must have seemed like a miracle. Even today it still sometimes does. It's hard to feel as if you're in the presence of magic on a crowded E train, although there's something to be said for such cheap freedom of movement. It comes down to this: When the subways and buses weren't running, New Yorkers found a way to work. If we were suddently deprived of our caffeine, the city would look like a sluggish, cranky version of 300. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's the most widely predicted upset of the first round: Caffeine 71, Mass Transit 65.

At Bushwood Country Club, Fla.

6 Kari Byron vs. 11 Dempsey’s Pub

Kari Byron is better known to the world at large as "That one cute girl on Mythbusters." She's the archetypical girl on which I develop a crush. She's smart, quirky and capable. It also doesn't hurt that she's ridiculously cute _ and knows it. But before I rhapsodize about that one time she doffed her welding mask and tossed her red tresses about like so, let me make something clear. Dempsey's was once just that kind of bar for me. Quirky, comfortable and always welcoming, it was my go-to place. It had good beer on tap, a casual, mature clientele and even the occasionally great shot-and-beer special that was too good to pass up. There was even a waitress who was almost as cute as Kari herself and didn't mind that everyone had a crush on her. Now, of course, Dempsey's is overrun by undergrads and underagers. For that and getting rid of Carlsberg on tap, Dempsey's is officially dead to me, and henceforth expelled from the tournament of everything. Kari will have to bring her formidable abs and knee-jellying smile to bear on some other sucker (Summer, this means you.) Kari Byron 2, Dempsey's Pub 0 (forfeit).

3 Muppets vs. 14 Comfortable Sweatpants

This is the back-to-the-womb matchup. Muppets are loveable, fuzzy creatures last seen in our childhoods putting on a variety show, teaching us how to count and attempting to retrieve the stolen Baseball Diamond. Comfortable Sweatpants are nice, especially when they're the new, modern kind that are more properly called workout pants or wind pants or whatever. I'm wearing some as I type this _ tres cozy. But as comfy as I am, my childhood would have been a cold, bitter place without Muppets. Even now, seeking out long-forgotten scenes like the Rat Scat makes the rest of your day seem the tiniest bit nicer. Sure, changing out of work pants and into something soft and yielding is a nice moment, but we could do without. I mean, one of the enduring trends in human history is that we always find a way to comfortably gird our loins (the Victorians aside, of course). We, as the human race, have only had Muppets for like 20 years or so. There's only one Muppet Era. And we were lucky enough to grow up in it. The Muppets 89, Comfortable Sweatpants 75.

7 Prague vs. 10 Reading Alone

It's finally gotten warm out. The fan is on. Your roommates are gone. No one has called to suggest going to Dominick's. No one has called at all, and that's OK by you. Outside Ann Arbor is green and still. With the hubbub of graduation (not yours) just a memory, you can settle down with the book you've been waiting to take a good crack at for weeks. There's a cold beverage at your feet. Soon, it will be dark outside and you'll have to turn on a light. You can't spend every night grilling out, drinking on the porch and dodging rogue skunks, even if it is your last summer of freedom. Of course, maybe you should have spent some of it in Prague. Yes, you'd get there eventually, but instead of piling into a hostel with your close friends (and maybe some new ones), you'd just rent a solo apartment in the same building with your one friend. Air conditioned. Your own shower. And only a five-minute walk from the Karluv Most. And that would come in handy when you sat on the bridge late at night, drinking in the night and wondering what it would have been like to be there when you were young enough to fall so intensely in love with a place you could just pick up and move there without giving it a second thought. Ah, crap. Prague 68, Reading Alone 60.

2 HMQ2K7 vs. 15 Frisbees

Let's see: Beauty beyond compare, a body that won't quit and the royal tiara of 2007 against a flat, round thing you can throw? Holy shit, what a massacre. On paper, this is going to make the battle of the Somme look like a pleasant Sunday kickabout in Hyde Park by comparison. But I guess that's why they play the games. So what happens? Well, Frisbees are fun to throw. Also, one can have fun by catching them. Occasionally, an impressive catch can be made while running, which usually impresses one's chums. Yeah, bully for them. There's a reason she's been Queen since 2006 and shows no signs of giving up the throne. You think she's going to let herself get run out of the gym by overblown pie tins? Nuh-uh. The rout, as they say, is on. HMQ2K7 101, Frisbees 54.

Round 1: Devil's Lake, South Dakota Region

At Fiesole, Italy

1 Sistine Chapel vs. 16 Extension Cords

Give a gay renaissance master a wide palette of color and one big-ass church ceiling. What do you get? Bible stories that feature an array of male full-frontal nudity and bushels of boobs to boot. Today that ceiling doubles as the world's most ornate tourist trap, and laggard, don't even think about sitting on the steps in there. Extension cords are simply outmatched. True, my apartment is functional only because of a variety of extension cords. Extension cords are good but they're no competition for world-renowned Bible-art-as-softcore-fantasia. Sistine Chapel 76, Extension Cord 43.

8 Wikipedia vs. 9 Wicker Furniture

Starter wicker chair fouled out during the summer months due to the discomfort that it causes to men with hairy legs as well as its poor napping attributes. Wikipedia's entries on NAMBLA and Anna Nicole Smith were ejected for technical fouls. Wikipedia 62, Wicker Furniture 51.

5 The Enlightenment vs. 12 Syracuse University

Alumnus Donovan McNabb and the 38-28 win over Michigan in 1998 were not enough to lift the Orangemen out of the red. The upstate New York university was felled by the Enlightenment's groundbreaking work in scientific method and skepticism of religion. The Enlightenment 65, Syracuse University 60.

4 Pint of Bass Ale vs. 13 Pair of Clean Socks

Bass Ale: the beer equivalent of burger and fries, my most reliable standby, available at any decent bar. Cheaper than Duvel and less sticky than Brooklyn Lager, more nourishing than Harp and simpler than Old Speckled Hen. It's the single indispensable beer. Clean socks always feel nice, but we've all recycled when the laundry runs out. I'd rather have ripe feet than patronize a bar without Bass. Pint of Bass Ale 74, Clean Pair of Socks 49.

At Windhoek, Namibia

6 Summer F. Sanders vs. 11 Hunter-Gatherers

Oh, hello hunter gatherers. Why yes, you were an essential step in the development of human societies. But tell me, did you really think that a group of people who were wiped out by agrarianism would be any match for Summer Fucking Sanders? Summer Fucking Sanders is agricultural settlement in a chlorinated pool -- as soon as she shows up, you might as well put down the spears and irrigate. You want subsistence? She catches fish with her bare fucking teeth. Not even close. Summer Fucking Sanders 84, Hunter-Gatherers 52.

3 Grand Theft Auto vs. 14 Estes Kefauver

Grand Theft Auto: the most god damn fun a person can have with something that plugs in. It allows a red-blooded young man to act out in a safe environment: solicit prostitutes, jump a motorcycle off a mountaintop, gamble, hijack planes and acquire residential property. The NCAA video-game football franchise is the tits as well, but gameplay there is inhibited by something known as "rules."

Unfortunately for Grand Theft Auto, the late Tennessee bad-ass Estes Kefauver singlehandedly destroyed organized crime. The Senator wasn't going to be scared if you got a haircut and chased a ho down the street with a chainsaw. Try that stunt around Estes Kefauver and there was only one game you could play: Grand Theft Giant Tennessee Boot Up Your Ass.

Grand Theft Auto, in a shocking upset, has met its match. Estes Kefauver 61, Grand Theft Auto 58.

7 Penicillin vs. 10 Contact Lenses

Gonorrhea victims, syphilics and meningitis survivors were dealt a harsh setback when their beloved serum was felled by the humble contact lens. Penicillin's far-reaching medical impact was no match for the aesthetic effect of the contact lens, which makes dorks like me look slightly less dorky. Contact Lenses 60, Penicillin 53.

2 Animal House vs. 15 Butter

In the Animal House cafeteria scene, John Belushi doesn't eat an entire stick of butter, but he could have. Fucking butter? There may be more undeserving seeds in this tournament, but none had the bad luck to go against the greatest movie comedy of all time. Animal House 98, Butter 12.