Sphincter Spotlight

Clear Channel

Fri, 6 Jan 2012 16:09:55 -0600

For countless sports radio listeners and callers, as well as a handful of local hosts, the 2012 apocalypse came at the very beginning of the year instead of late December. That’s because, without warning, Clear Channel turned 1210 AM The Score into a gospel station in the wee hours of New Year’s morning.
The huge media conglomerate reportedly switched the station’s format right as the new year was rung in, only nine days from the biggest weekend in Louisiana sports history. And it did it without declaring its intention to do so to any of the hosts who made their living on the airwaves. What a “Christian” way to introduce the new “Hallelujah 1210” to the Baton Rouge community.
Exactly how many underpowered, static-filled gospel stations does this city need? This latest one makes at least four. What, is the music they broadcast so powerful that if it were broadcast on a 100-kilowatt FM station listeners would be instantly raptured?
Of course, Clear Channel switched to the gospel format in hopes of making more money. How dumb is that business plan?
First, there’s the aforementioned competition. Secondly, Jesus will return very soon and take all the listeners with Him. Afterward, the rest of us left on Earth will desperately want to distract ourselves from the tribulation. And what better way to forget about war and pestilence than with hearty banter about sports?
More importantly, though, is how Clear Channel’s surprise move will negatively affect those who depended on the station for income, entertainment, and overall mental well-being. For instance, what will midday host Buddy Songy now do for free food? And whom will his listeners call and rant to about LSU sports during their smoke breaks while working at Walmart?
And what about Carl “The Cat”? For Amy Grant’s sake, he’s a bona fide sports call-in show celebrity! He made his name by phoning in to shows on The Score all the time! Without unfettered access to the airwaves in the Capital City, we shudder to think what will become of the guy. For all we know, a delusional “Cat” could be huddled in the corner of a dark room right now, having a “conversation” with Jimmy Ott through an empty Hormel Chili can.
Say what you will about the quality of the sports shows that were on The Score, but they filled a need in Baton Rouge. When it came to discussing local sports, the station was a haven for 50-plus-year-old men devoid of three things: real meaning in their lives, true sports knowledge, and an understanding of how the internet works.
Whoever said variety is the spice of life never listened to Songy’s show. There was absolutely no variety. (Can you say “All LSU All the Time”?) Yet his was the “spiciest” show around, mainly because he uttered the word “spicy” every five minutes.
Sure, there’s still another sports station with a decent wattage on the FM dial in town, but it’s just not the same as The Score. The hosts on that station don’t let callers take up as much airtime as they wish with incoherent rambling.
Damn you, Clear Channel!

Rae Emerson

Fri, 2 Dec 2011 14:45:03 -0600

This month’s Sphincter is a real pinhead. As deputy superintendent at Ford’s Theatre, Rae Emerson not only wrote an unfairly disparaging review of Bill O’Reilly’s new bestselling book about the Lincoln assassination, but she also recommended it not be sold at the historic site’s bookstore due to trivialities like “lack of documentation” and “factual errors.”
In her official review of Killing Lincoln: The Shocking Assassination That Changed America Forever, Emerson blathers on for four pages, “correcting” passages from the book before frivolously stating it should be banned from Ford’s Theatre. Coincidentally, you know who else banned books? That’s right: Nazis.
One of Emerson’s “corrections” involves O’Reilly’s (and co-author Martin Dugard’s) multiple references to the Oval Office. Well, according to Emerson and her ilk, the Oval Office supposedly wasn’t built until 1909.
So what if THE Oval Office wasn’t constructed until 44 years after Lincoln’s assassination? Maybe they were talking about another oval-shaped office. It’s not like sort-of-round rooms were a 20th-century innovation, for Pete’s sake.
Emerson then tries to take a dig at O’Reilly for writing of generals Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee: “The two warriors will never meet again.” As Emerson likes to point out in her review, Grant and Lee subsequently met for a second time later in 1965 to discuss prisoners of war … allegedly.
Again, what’s the big deal if they met for a second, third, or fiftieth time to trade Bundt cake recipes? After all, the book is about Lincoln, not Grant and Lee. Then again, maybe Bundt cake wasn’t invented until the Taft administration, just like oval-shaped offices, for crying out loud.
Finally, Emerson takes nitpicking to a new level by taking issue with the year in which Ford’s Theatre burned down. O’Reilly’s book says that it “burned to the ground in 1863.” In her review, Emerson says the fire was in 1862.
For the love of God, does it really matter if a book sold at Ford’s Theatre misstates the year Ford’s Theatre burned down? Sure, it might be a historical site, but Bill O’Reilly is a national treasure. That’s why Killing Lincoln has been No. 2 on The New York Times’ best-seller list.
We say let the marketplace decide when Ford’s Theatre burned down, as well as the accuracy of other historical facts. It’s what the Founding Fathers intended.

New Jersey Republicans

Fri, 4 Nov 2011 19:08:53 -0500

Garden State Republicans have rashly and unjustly abandoned one of their own, simply for tweeting so-called controversial relationship advice. Republican state Senate candidate Phil Mitsch has lost the support of both his local and state GOP parties for telling women the best way to keep their men is to act like whores.
Both groups withdrew their support of the District 6 hopeful after he tweeted this tip to his 44,000-plus followers: “Women, you increase your odds of keeping your men by being faithful, a lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom.”
Mitsch’s advice isn’t just solid, it’s also time-tested wisdom passed down from the fairer sex. The 62-year-old real estate broker said he was merely paraphrasing Mick Jagger’s ex-wife Jerry Hall, who famously quoted her mother as saying, “to keep a man happy, you had to be a cook in the kitchen, a maid in the living room, and a whore in the bedroom.”
Mitsch explained the sentiment even more succinctly during a subsequent interview. “That shows the utmost respect for women,” he told The Philadelphia Inquirer. “What I was trying to say to men was, ‘Men, look, if you got to go out and play around and you can’t be honest with a woman and respect her, then you’re better off just doing pay, play, and get the “F” away.’”
No wonder Mitsch legitimately calls himself “America’s Leading Economic, Real Estate, Lending and Motivational Coach” on his Twitter profile.
Sadly, Camden County Republican Chairman Thomas T. Booth Jr. announced late last month Mitsch “no longer has the support” of the local organization as a result of the controversy that ensued after Mitch’s tweet. Booth said Mitsch’s explanation that he was simply rephrasing a famous woman’s statement “demonstrates a fundamental failure to appreciate why his statement was so wrong.”
Furthermore, the state GOP also withdrew its support for Mitsch, who faces Democratic incumbent Senator James Beach in the November 8 election. New Jersey State Republican Committee spokesman Rick Gorka said, “Phil Mitsch’s remarks make him unfit for public office.”
It’s unfortunate that Mitsch’s political brethren have renounced their backing of his candidacy simply because he offered that ageless tip. If anyone needs to heed the advice espoused in Mitsch’s now notorious tweet, it’s women married to Republican public officials.
Due the party’s compulsion of pandering to the fundamentalist base, the wives of male Republican politicians typically need demure public personae. Yet, given the number of sex scandals involving their unfaithful husbands, it seems those same women might want to consider employing Mitsch’s sage advice. Look no further than Senator David Vitter and his wife Wendy.

NY State Attorney General’s Office

Fri, 7 Oct 2011 17:57:49 -0500

A well-respected prosecutor in the New York State Attorney General’s Office was known for kicking the asses of white-collar criminals engaged in securities fraud. Sadly, she was apparently fired for kicking the asses of those who paid her to do so as a dominatrix during her personal time.
Until last month, Alisha Smith made nearly $80,000 a year as a lawyer with the Attorney General’s office. She was lauded just three years ago by then-AG Andrew Cuomo for her role in obtaining a $5 billion settlement from those bastards at Bank of America and other scumbags in a securities fraud case.
According to the New York Post, which is almost as respected as Smith, she was suspended by the AG’s Office without pay pending an internal investigation.
While her bosses didn’t say why Smith was relieved of her duties, the Post insists it’s because the 36-year-old “who dresses demurely as a button-down prosecutor, turns up the heat when she becomes perky persecutor ‘Alisha Spark,’ a nom de dom she uses when she performs at S&M events for pay.” All this is courtesy of a trustworthy “fetish source.”
Additionally, she was suspended after the paper “inquired about her saucy S&M lifestyle.” Maybe Alisha Spark should pay a visit to the New York Post and teach those naughty boys a lesson.
But this injustice lies squarely on the shoulders of the office entrusted with meting out justice. So what if Smith posed for photos at fetish parties while wearing skintight, see-through latex dresses with heart-shaped pasties? How can that detract from her role as a no-holds-barred prosecutor? If anything, it would enhance it.
Can you imagine the thoughts going through some hotshot defense attorney sitting across from her in a deposition? “This chick gets paid to inflict punishment on douche bags like me.”
It’ll either scare the crap out of him or make him cream his shorts. Either way, it’ll distract him from the job at hand, namely, defending some dirtbag.
Yes, the folks at the New York AG’s Office have been very bad. They need some discipline, and we know just the woman to administer it.

USMC

Fri, 2 Sep 2011 11:01:47 -0500

The brave Marines serving in Afghanistan have been subjected to numerous restrictions out of deference to Afghan culture. But now, in addition to not swearing or talking about sensitive topics like politics, religion, or girls, jarheads are banned from farting audibly around the natives.
That’s right. This month’s Sphincter has caused a real stink.
According to The Military Times, “audible farting has been banned for some Marines downrange because it offends the Afghans.” It would seem that the fellows in Force Recon aren’t the only members of the United States Marine Corps who are supposed to be silent but deadly.
Apparently, occupying their country for a decade is tolerable. Thunderous trouser coughs, however, are nothing less than abhorrent to Afghans.
Granted, we understand that such a nation-building effort as the one the United States is currently engaged in requires the soldiers and Marines, who are trained to kill, to express the maximum possible respect for the people and culture of the land. However, they’re supposed to win the hearts and minds, not the farts and minds.
Besides, farting is one of the few forms of entertainment for the guys out there. It’s bad enough that porn and alcohol are strictly forbidden. Now Marines can’t even get their kicks by honoring each other with a one-man salute because an Afghan might think it’s as offensive as an educated woman?
Of course, farting hasn’t been completely banned by the USMC high command. Only audible farts are to be squelched, because it’s the sound — not the smell — of a colonic calliope that the Afghans find objectionable. Fact is, it’d be nearly impossible to offend them with an odor.
Given their attitudes toward females, perhaps the Afghans would be more forgiving of the Marines’ bottom burps if the Devil Dogs blasted their gluteal tubas toward women.

Aurora School Board

Fri, 5 Aug 2011 08:47:50 -0500

Julia Sullivan is a teenager who likes to dance and wants to get people excited for games. Yet, she was denied a spot on the high school cheerleading team for the third time this spring merely because she has partial arms and no legs.
Sullivan, who’ll be a junior at Aurora High School in Nebraska this fall, was born without legs and with arms that stop short of her elbows. However, the spunky 16-year-old refuses to allow her condition to quash her dream of joining her friends on the cheerleading squad. She’s even practiced with her older sister, a former cheerleader, who helped her figure out ways she could cheer from her wheelchair.
Sadly, though, the Aurora School Board, led by new Superintendent Damon McDonald, declined to even take up the matter of reviewing “scoring errors” in her tryout. Sullivan; her parents, Mike and Carolyn; and their attorney Kevin Schneider brought forth the issue, saying Julia was given no accommodation for her disability.
Schneider cited in vain the Americans With Disabilities Act and other federal laws that prohibit discrimination against people with disabilities. McDonald ultimately claimed the Aurora Public Schools policies and guidelines were determined to be “appropriate and legitimate for all students.”
After this year’s disappointment, Sullivan’s parents decided to look into how the tryouts were scored. They discovered that three tryout judges were all instructed to base 75% of a participant’s score on physical activities and 25% on teacher evaluation.
The Sullivans learned Julia received her highest marks in the communication skills and enthusiasm/spirit categories. Shockingly, her lowest score was in the jumps/kicks category.
The folks at the Aurora School Board don’t get it. Students with that much fanaticism for their school are becoming more and more rare these days. She deserves a place on the squad.
Just because she’s in a wheelchair, it doesn’t mean she can’t rouse the spirits of fans and team members. When it comes to spelling out words and forming letters with her body, she’s got giving an “I” and a “T” — lowercase, anyway — nailed. And maybe, instead of a traditional pyramid, the rest of the squad could form a triangle, up which Julia could ride her wheelchair to the peak and lead Aurora fans in cheers. If that wouldn’t rally the team to victory, nothing would.

The Doors

Fri, 1 Jul 2011 15:30:01 -0500

The classic band The Doors shocked us in a couple ways after recently making headlines. First, they’re still around? Secondly, even after 40 years this month, they apparently still haven’t gotten over Jim Morrison’s untimely death following a night of hard drinking in Paris.
Why else would the band’s intellectual property lawyer send a threatening letter to a lifelong fan, demanding that he take down the copious images of the group within 90 days from his bar, which happens to be only minutes from where Morrison died?
Christophe Maillet, who opened his Doors-themed bar Lézard King (Morrison’s nickname was Lizard King) just nine months ago, received a letter from Beverly Hills attorney Anthony Keats warning that “The Doors do not want to be seen as having approved of your establishment and also the consumption of alcohol.”
Really? The consumption of alcohol is what made Jim Morrison one of the most pioneering lead singers in rock history. Booze and Mr. Mojo Risin are inextricably intertwined. It is literally impossible to imagine Morrison sober.
Hence, a drinking establishment adorned with oversized close-ups of Morrison, posters of the band, and a bust of the iconic front man at the beer tap — all from Maillet’s personal collection — just seems like a perfectly befitting memorial. All that’s missing are lines of cocaine, tabs of acid, and bags of heroin.
Morrison’s famous alcoholism even steered Maillet into becoming a bartender.
“I found my passion for Jim Morrison at the age of 12,” the soft-spoken Maillet told The Associated Press. “Then I found a professional that could go along with it.”
After nearly a decade of working at other establishments, Maillet’s goal of opening a bar dedicated to Morrison came true. He’s even created cocktails and dubbed them after Doors songs. The “Light My Fire” is a mixture of rum, Cointreau, and citrus juices. The “Roadhouse Blues” blends tequila, Cointreau, and blue curaçao.
Keats’ letter also unfairly demanded that the name of the bar be changed, something Maillet rightly refuses to do. Nevertheless, in an effort to appease The Doors, he is willing to essentially water down the level of his bar’s dedication to them by adding other bands from the 1960s and ’70s.
After spending what amounts to his life savings on getting his dream bar’s doors open, The Doors could soon try to shut them. The attorney’s letter doesn’t specify possible sanctions if legal action proceeds, but Maillet said, “I guess worst-case scenario is that they could close the bar.”
Maillet said he knows of about a dozen other Doors-themed bars around the world, from Amsterdam to India. However, we’ve yet to hear about any of them facing similar legal issues. Maybe that’s because none of them are able to serve patrons who are in town making a pilgrimage to Morrison’s gravesite.
So basically, four decades after their lead singer died in Paris, The Doors want to destroy the life of arguably his biggest fan in that same city. Morrison probably would have dug the irony.

Cal/OSHA

Fri, 3 Jun 2011 23:42:53 -0500

It seems that the powers that be are trying to ruin America’s favorite pastime for the sake of “safety.” No, we’re not talking about the NFL further restricting helmet-to-helmet contact. We’re talking about government regulators wanting to require condom use in porn.
The California Division of Occupational Safety and Health, better known as Cal/OSHA, recently released a 17-page draft proposal detailing a myriad of new rules that adult film producers would have to follow. If the state’s Occupational Safety & Health Standards Board decides the proposal should become part of the state code, it could spell the end of domestic porn production as we know it, since the vast majority of American skin flicks are shot in the Golden State.
Among the draft’s proposed requirements: “use of condoms or other barrier protection to prevent genital and oral contact with the blood or (any other bodily fluids) of another person.” Well, there goes your standard oral scene, because the only thing more rare than a person who can perform fellatio or cunnilingus on him/herself is a person who actually enjoys watching oral sex performed with a condom or dental dam in place.
Group scenes would be drastically affected, too. Not only would performers be forbidden from using the same condom with multiple partners, but the producer would also have to ensure that body areas contaminated with bodily fluids are cleaned between sex acts with the same or different partners.
That last stipulation could make it near impossible for producers to recruit new female talent to the adult film industry. Do you know how many young girls with daddy issues from small, Midwestern towns step off a bus every day in Los Angeles with dreams of starring in a video that ends with them receiving “bodily fluids” from multiple guys on their faces?
Besides, this is America, the closest thing to the Roman Empire we have on this Earth. What’s more Romantic than porn featuring unprotected sex?
Think about it; porn is part of our modern bread and circuses. While we have many forms of entertainment, the majority of us — just like the ancient Romans — are most thrilled when the participants are at risk of dying (see auto racing and the X Games). Adult entertainment is no different.
Forcing performers to wear condoms would be like giving protective equipment to the Christians before dropping them in with the lions. No one would have gone to the Coliseum for that.
But unlike those doomed Christians, porn actors and actresses at least have a choice in the matter. No one forced them to take up that career. Coerced, maybe, but not forced.
In football, wide receivers who don’t want to have their heads separated from their bodies shouldn’t go across the middle. Likewise, people who don’t want to contract a communicable disease shouldn’t act in adult films.

Hopewell Township

Fri, 6 May 2011 11:38:58 -0500

The folks in Hopewell Township must have forgotten they’re in New Jersey. Why else would a town in the same state that gave us Jersey Shore adopt an ordinance that not only regulates sex between animals, but also requires that cocks be disease-free?
The township committee adopted the so-called “chicken legislation” unanimously on April 25 after nearly three hours of debate. The measure limits the amount of time male chickens can spend with their female counterparts to 10 days each year. As for the other 355 days, amorous roosters would presumably have to choke the proverbial chicken.
The ordinance also requires roosters to produce clean bills of health before they’re allowed access to the hens. It seems the committee was concerned about flocks getting sick and dying as a result of mating with an infected pecker.
And even during those measly ten days out of the year when approved roosters are allowed to get their beak on, they must keep quiet during their booty calls or risk running a-fowl of the law. Any roosters caught crowing for a prolonged period of time will subject the entire property to a two-year moratorium on all rooster visits.
This is probably a good time to remind you that we’re talking about a town in New Jersey. You’d think folks there would be accustomed to preening cocks crowing about their sexual conquests at all hours of the night.
So, just to recap, healthy roosters can get busy with hens only 10 days out of the year. And when they are allowed to have a literal roll in the hay, they have to stay quiet, or the hens there would have to go two years before another rooster is allowed on the property.
When it comes to dealing with cocks, the leaders in Hopewell Township are a bunch of pricks. That’s why we’re giving them the bird.

Tom Henry

Fri, 1 Apr 2011 09:22:12 -0500

Fort Wayne, IN, Mayor Tom Henry has shown a complete disregard for the will of the people by ignoring their overwhelming endorsement to name a new governmental center after former four-term Mayor Harry Baals, who, unlike his descendants, proudly pronounced his family name “bawlz.”
In a recent online poll to name the new building, “Harry Baals Government Center” received nearly 24,000 of the 30,000 votes cast. However, Henry announced last month it would be named “Citizens Square,” a moniker that got a grand total of five votes.
How dare he and the other city officials leave supporters of Harry Baals hanging. If the people want Harry Baals, they should get Harry Baals, no matter how much elected officials may object to Harry Baals.
Their reasons for denying the people’s wish to have a building named after Harry Baals is rather fuzzy. While Henry stated naming it after a single person “would be a disservice to other mayors and individuals who have made significant contributions to our community as well,” Fort Wayne officials earlier had expressed concern about naming the center after Baals because they were worried the name would be ridiculed.
Why in the hell would it be ridiculed? The man got elected as mayor four times with that name.
It sounds like Henry is giving in to pressure by those who are ashamed of Harry Baals. He apparently doesn’t have the cojones to do what’s right in this case.
Besides, it’s not like the former mayor, who served during the mid-1900s with his wife Minnie by his side, isn’t deserving of such an honor. He’s credited with breaking ground on the city’s airport and elevated train lines, which makes the decision to sack “Harry Baals Government Center” all the more outrageous.
The whole online poll turned out to be nothing more than a waste of time and money. They didn’t even consider the second-most popular name for the building: “Thunder Dome.”
Subsequently, Fort Wayne will likely lose out on an untold amount of income from tourism that would have been generated by going with Harry Baals Government Center. Who’s going to travel to northeast Indiana just to take a picture in front of a building named Citizens Square?
Yes, Henry and his fellow officials had the perfect opportunity to make the Hoosier State a lot more interesting. Instead, they chose a name that’s even more boring than Indiana cuisine.