Former THL fave Chuck Klosterman turned a misinformed rant on an album into an incredibly stupid commentary on gender, prompting rebuttals all involving different varieties of the phrase “Old Man Yelling” to varying effect. However, Jen is the only one to connect the dots and realize that if Klosterman isn’t our generation’s Andy Rooney, he soon will be.

Does anyone actually think building a 5 story boat warehouse in the middle of Matheson Hammock is a good idea? Didn’t think so. Find out more and sign the petition here.

You may or may not have already heard my news. I’ve written about it twice, and it’s going to start getting really redundant here. And wait, yes, it is about to get really redundant right here. That’s right. I’m saying goodbye again. Hold your horses, this one’s directed at THL. With all of these posts, it kind of seems like I’m dying not just moving 20 minutes north.

As the new music editor at the New Times Broward-Palm Beach, I will be saying good-bye to Miami, moving to Broward, and to The Heat Lightning – the blog which I birthed with Alesh a year and a half ago.

I’m not a public emoter past anger, furious anger, and the occasional hurt feeling tear. Every time I try to be a human, I feel like Data when he was implanted with the emotion chip. That’s why writing this farewell has taken me forever, or a week to be accurate.

When I moved to Miami as a kid, I hated it. I really hated it and everyone in it. It was only in ninth grade when I met my best friend Liza a recent arrival from New York that I fell in love with this shitty city. Liza illuminated all the beauty of this foreign place with her always seemingly rational perspective. The banyans, the sun, the sand. How could I not embrace it and make it my home?

So Reddit is apparently the hottest thing in social aggregation since sliced bread and/or Digg. There is an anonymous AMA (ask me anything) on being a doorman at a Miami club that’s revealing
on many levels, not the least of which by showing how misunderstood Miami is generally.

That said, tha author’s advice so far boils down as following:

• Don’t be fat and a girl.
• Don’t be either a) skinny and alone or b) fat and poor if you’re a dude.
• Related: C.R.E.A.M.
• More girls are always better and if you’re either of the above hide in a crowd.
• Cut in line all you want, just don’t create a “disturbance.”
• The doorman is more articulate and has a better sense of humor than you give him credit for. He’s also not happy at having to be a dick.
• Don’t wear Ed Hardy or Tapout apparel (which explains a lot about why I keep getting turned away at clubs, ok not really.)

The best part about the SOPA blackouts? Watching people on Twitter flip the hell out.

Mid to late January is good for one thing only: waiting for February, which itself is only good for contemplating suicide. So here are some links to take your mind off the fact that you’re not being showered in gifts and egg nog at the present moment.

• Is it funny that I’m posting this on SOPA blackout day? I mean I think it’s funny that I’m posting this on SOPA blackout day. How to access Wikipedia on SOPA blackout day. Also: the R.I.A.A. is still staffed by total dicks (even when it isn’t SOPA blackout day).
• Fake product reviews are the glue that hold internet comedy together.
• Did not wearing a helmet save Gene Hackman’s life when he was hit by a car while cycling in Key West? Of course not, but assuming that helmets are the one-size-fits-all answer to bicycle safety only creates a false sense of security, argue the folks over at Lovely Bicycle.
• Between the Republican Primary catfights and football, there have been a lot of non-story stories going around. To that end: Tim Tebow exists, and people write godawful crap about him.
• Related, sort of not really: G.O.P.-Friendly Super PAC or Mary J. Blige Album?
• The Story of my Life, bro.
• Tax season is more or less upon us and yet again I seem to be the only person I know who actually does their own return. If you can add and you actually care about people, AARP is still accepting volunteer applications for their Tax-Aide program. I’ll be writing about my own experiences doing volunteer tax prep shortly.
• I’m going to go on record and say that the last Magnetic Fields albums was farcically disappointing. “Oh you people like goofy pop songs? Well here’s 30 minutes of overproduced chamber music. Hope you like harpsichords!” Anyway, people seem to have high hopes for the next album Love At The Bottom Of The Sea, the first single for which is streaming online now. It features guys in drag and is woefully short. Fun!
• In closing, someone needs to get Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd on the phone.

In case you missed the opening of Sections at General Practice yesterday, make sure to check out the show tomorrow at Roofless Records’ first fundraiser on NYE at the space.

Also, last night there was more sweaty dancing and delightful hip hop at The Garret’s first night at Grand Central Peachfuzz, so hit that up next Friday.

Tonight, make sure to say bye-bye to the boys of Ice Cream at Eve.

Jeff Rollason gives like the best interviews ever. Anyway. He’s been doing Night of the Weirds for a few years now. I love them. They offer a haunting mix of bizarre performances and strange sounds, stupid looks and questionable concepts. Not all bad, some deliciously terrible, but, thankfully, not boring. The last Weirds night, Summer of Weirds, fell on my birthday. I knew it was because I’m such a super fan. At that one, Ballscarf showed a video of Aiden Dillard shitting.

But there’s more to Night of the Weirds than deification. There’s some yelling too. And drama. It’s experimental, bro. Any show whose lineup includes both Raffa Jo and Rat Bastard is one worth attending in my book.

Check out winter*wonder*weirds Thursday night at Churchill’s Pub (5501 NE Second Ave., Miami). It’s free, starts at like 7:30, and it’s freeeeee. RSVP on Facebook here.

Full schedule exists after the jump.

“Tidy yourself up! We might be Czechs, but we don’t have to let the rest of the world know.” This is apparently one of the lingeringly popular jokes from The Good Soldier Švejk, one of the resounding classics of Czech literature. The fact that I don’t find it any funnier than you will tell you what you need to know about my embarrassingly sparse connection to Czech literature (if the fact that I had to Google it didn’t tip you off). With that serving as a pre-emptive appology, let me tell you as best as I can why Václav Havel was important (without any more Googling, I promise).

At the end of World War II, Roosevelt and Churchill sold my people out to Stalin at Yalta, and the big ‘ol Iron Curtain fell on us. And while it was a light-sneeze version of the Stalinist/Totalitarian sort of thing that they’re, for example, still living up in North Korea to this day, it was still a very different lifestyle from ordinary poverty. There’s an extremely real paranoia that exists, because even if you’ve never gone before the officials on charges that were made against you buy anonymous spies, you know that it happens all the time. Also, this: you can join “The Communist Party” or not. YOUR CHOICE. If you don’t join, the government and others in positions of power won’t trust you. You’ll be denied perks, career advancement, and safety. If you do join, you’ll loose the respect and trust of all your friends. Unless they’re all Party members too. But those are the people with sticks up their ass, right? You either sacrifice your integrity or you sacrifice your prosperity and comfort.

I happened to be over at Miami Art Museum the other day, and Michael Balbone, who you might know from Less Concept More Action or because he creates amusing and amazing works of art, has revamped the museum’s gift shop. It’s now filled with items that your family will want, well, your family that knows the Miami art scene or has a stellar sense of humor. Check out this madness here.

Visit Sometime This Century for more cartoon madness.